Dissenting Opinions
by jane1229
Summary: My own version of GH, continuation of Majority Opinions, spun away at so long that it is mostly my own characters, but takes place in PC and some GH characters still appear.
1. Taryn Learns Something

Taryn went over to the London Underground. The band was not there yet. She went to the bar, then went back as if she were an employee, looking around.

Clay was out in the hallway that led to the rest rooms. "Hey," Taryn said. "I'm off the hook."

"What happened in court?" he asked her.

Chad Breyer was at the London Underground, and he went back to the restroom. He stopped, seeing Taryn with her arms around Clay's neck.

"I got 20 hours of community service," she was saying to Clay, who had his hands on her waist. "For disturbing the peace."

"You disturb a lot of people's peace," he said, and he kissed her.

Chad frowned, turning and walking back. By now, he saw Toby and Wylie connecting amps on the stage.

Taryn went out into the club and sat down at the Yellow Circle Line table. There, she found a left-behind copy of the _Port Charles Gazette_. She looked through it and found that there was an article about her case in it.

This one even had her name in it! Horrified, she knew she had to get home before her mother picked their copy up.

She could have done it already.

After stopping to throw the copy she had in the trash, Taryn got in the car and drove back home as fast as she could. To her relief, the _Port Charles Gazette_ was still in the mailbox. Taryn took all the mail out, and put the _Port Charles Gazette_ in her backpack. Then she headed back to the London Underground.

The band was playing now. Not even warming up. Yvonne was screeching about some dude who was looking at her in a subway car. Leering at her.

Weird.

Taryn looked over towards the bar at Clay. He was talking to Skye. Taryn did not like the flirtatious way he always used when talking to Skye. Tonight, it was especially annoying.

In fact, it was downright outrageous. He didn't notice Taryn when she went up to the bar. She turned and went back to listening to the song. She sat down at another table with her back to Clay. She was thinking.

Toby caught her eye. She smiled. He had noticed she was there.

Later, when Skye was gone, she went over to buy a drink.

"Did you grab the newspaper?" Clay asked Taryn.

"Yes," she said. "I'm hoping that'll be enough."

When the band took a break, Toby came up to her. He rubbed her back. Clay turned and scowled. Taryn noticed that, and wondered. Wasn't he the one dating another woman, too. And one she didn't know about.

Who could it be? An idea of who it could be started to develop in Taryn's head.

Toby walked off. Taryn suddenly felt angry at Clay.

"Want to hang out when I get off?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. But he didn't like the way she said it or the way she walked off. He frowned. Then he shrugged and got back to work.


	2. Tatiana Arrives

Tatiana arrived at JFK airport, tired after the long journey. She still had to check a flight to Port Charles.

The security measures at the airport were as strict as any checkpoint in the old Soviet Union. As to the present Russian Federation, it was an anarchy comparable to the wild west. So this new detailed attention to what she was doing brought Tatiana back into the past. She looked around, on principal, for a way to avoid inspection at the end of the line, but there seemed to be no way, so her native Russian indifference took over and she waited.

When it was her turn, the inspector looked at her passport and her visa. Then he called her aside into a room. It scared her. She hadn't seen them do this to anyone else in the line ahead of her. Did they know something about her that made them think she would try to stay? She remembered how suspicious the consul had been on that.

And yet, Tatiana wouldn't have said to herself that she intended to stay any longer than they wanted to give her.

The inspector asked her a few questions about whether she was married and whether she had relatives in the U.S. She was able to answer truthfully that she was married and that she was not related to anyone who lived in the U.S. Then, to her surprise, the inspector simply took her little white card, wrote a date on it, telling her that was the last day she could be in the U.S. Tatiana took the card. The date was surprisingly far off, in the fall, six months later. Tatiana had felt sure they'd limit her stay to a few days. Again the inspector warned her to leave by that date six months from now, or she would be forever ineligible to immigrate, or something like that.

Once out of that room, Tatiana felt a freedom she had never experienced before. Apparently, there was no one else who was going to stop her or question her. When she went to get on the plane to fly to Port Charles, there was no questioning, no inspections of documents and visas; only friendly flight attendants, treating her like she was a queen.

She took a cab to the Port Charles Hotel, which she had given the consul as her address, intending to find a cheaper hotel later, or see if her ex-husband Mikhail might put her up. She figured it would be easy to find Oksana, Mikhail's sister, the American Citizen, and that Oksana would tell her how to find Mikhail.


	3. Toby Learns Something

"Let's get a drink somewhere else," Chad said to Toby. "I've got something to tell you."

"Sure," Toby said, wondering. It was unusual. Chad usually needed to get home to bed, because he had to be up early for work in the morning.

But now they went to Luke's bar. It was weird. Was Chad going to tell him he was getting married or something? Toby doubted it. He didn't know who Chad was dating.

But now Chad was sociable, and bought him a beer.

"Seen Mom lately?" he grinned.

"Nay," said Toby. "I lucked out. I guess Jesus hasn't been as much after me as heretofore. How about you?"

Chad smiled. "Mom calls me at least once a week to ask me if I can yet be saved," he said. "She calls Laraine more often."

"Poor sis," Toby said. Their sister Laraine was an accountant at Deception, Co. "I guess Mom worries about the influence of all those heathen models."

"Godless place," Chad agreed. They had both slid into an easy humor about their mother's evangelicalism, but it could be a burden, and had been. It had single handedly caused their parents' divorce, or so at least, their father, Kent Breyer, thought.

"Speaking of godless women," Chad said. "Taryn. I saw her kissing the bartender."

Toby looked stunned. Such a thought had never occurred to him. At first, he really couldn't believe it.

"You must have mistaken her for someone else."

"Thinking that, I stayed an extra minute to be sure. Looked at what she was wearing and saw her later."

Toby didn't say anything.

"You had no idea?" Chad said.

"None," Toby said. He stared. Chad waited, sympathetically.

"You know I was thinking," Chad said. "With what happened with mom and dad. Maybe dating girls who are little more stable. Older. At least straight with you from the get go."

"Yeah," Toby said, starting to feel angry. "Well, I don't own Taryn, I just never thought - if it was someone in high school, but damn, the bartender, right there in front of me and I didn't get a clue. I don't even know which bartender you mean. She's friends with Clay. No way would Mikhail date her."

"Clay," Chad said, shortly. "I hate telling you this, man, but I'd rather let you in on what's up than you have to find out like I did."

"Yes, I know, thanks, Chad."

"It's at least good for a song," Chad grinned. "Tell Yvonne all about it."

Toby tried to smile a little, because he knew his brother wanted him to feel better.


	4. Clay Learns Something

"What's wrong?" Clay said to Taryn, in the car. He didn't start the engine.

"You know," she said, feeling the pressure rise inside her, "I don't know what I've been thinking. I broke up with Jeremy because he wanted to go out with other girls. Somehow he made me think it was wrong to want just one on one. So I try to play along with the way guys want it. What Jeremy said. Now Jeremy dates one girl. Toby wants to date one girl. You're OK with dating more than one, I date two guys, and that's fine with you. I saw you making googly eyes at Skye, she's a million years older than you but I guess that doesn't matter. And Toby wants to just date one girl at a time. Which was what I wanted in the first place! This is all so stupid. I'm not seeing you any more."

She opened the door.

"Wait," he grabbed at her arm. "Taryn, I only did that when I realized you did it."

"But you had no problem with doing it," Taryn said. "You thought it was just fine. Not jealous at all - is that really the way you are? All you feel? Never mind. Go on and hang out with Skye and whoever else you're hanging out with."

She got out of the car then.

He sighed, shut the door and drove off.

Later, Clay told his older brother Matt about the whole thing.

"I'm amazed," Matt said. "How did you get into such a mess?"

"I don't know," Clay admitted. "But I feel like Taryn was part of making this a mess, too. Suddenly she changes her mind again."

"She realized she doesn't want so much going on," Matt said. "Sometimes, simplicity is best in life."

"I thought things were confusing for her, with her parents' divorce going on," Clay said. "So I gave her a lot of space. Maybe I shouldn't have said I was dating other girls, but it didn't seem right not to when she could date other guys. She'd think I was weak."

"She's very young," Matt said.

"She's eighteen. She graduates from Mercy High next week."

"Eighteen, but still in high school," Matt said. "Don't you remember high school?"

"Not as well as you might," Clay said. Matt was a high school teacher, so he had better reminders of the level of maturity common at that age.

"Allow me to remind you," Matt said. "Immaturity runs rampant. And as you pointed out, there's the parents' divorce."

"I'm not sure what to do," Clay said. "I wouldn't say she's immature, exactly. She handled the whole drunk driving charge thing on her own. She's even doing her community service, without her mother even knowing. She's taking care of business like an adult, with that."

"It comes and go," Matt said. "It comes and goes.

Clay didn't press his brother further for what he meant by that. He supposed it was that maturity in 18 year olds comes and goes. But Matt had a certain cynicism about high school students that seemed a little extreme to Clay, even if Matt was the high school teacher and could always claim to be the one who would know best.

Matt didn't know every high school student in the universe.


	5. Taryn and Toby

Taryn went to meet Toby in the barn, having called him and asked him to meet her. He said he would. He sounded casual, but he always did.

Toby was the guitarist for a rock band, the Dissenters. Sometimes, the band rehearsed in this old barn.

Tonight, Taryn got there first. She waited, relaxing, sitting on a bale of hay.

When Toby came in he didn't look right at her. He had his guitar slung over his shoulder. He put it down.

"What's wrong?" she said, her radar detecting that something was indeed wrong.

"Well, Taryn," he said. "I don't know what to say. I guess you are wanting me here to tell me something."

"No," she said, wide eyed and innocent. "I just invited you to be here with me, that's all. Come here and sit down," she added, patting the bale of hay next to where she sat.

He sat down, eyeing her suspiciously. "You weren't going to break up with me?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Oh, maybe someone else is in your life."

"No - no," she said.

"Chad saw you. Kissing Clay. You're going out with Clay now, so what's that all about?"

"No, I'm not going out with Clay now," she said, realizing that the worst had happened. After all these months she had gotten away with it and it seemed impossible that just now, Toby should figure it out. Damn his snooping and tattling brother Chad!

"You were kissing Clay this very evening!"

"That was because - because," Taryn was stuck.

"How does this work, Taryn? Kissing Clay and not dating him? You don't want to break up with me?"

"I - I was dating both of you," she finally said.

"Huh?"

"Yeah, all along I was dating both of you, but I broke it off with Clay tonight."

He looked confused. This only made him look more attractive. Taryn tried again, "It was Jeremy and the whole dating more than one person thing. I thought I should do it too. But then I realized - Clay was dating someone else, too, and so I realized the reason I broke up with Jeremy was I didn't want to date two people, and Clay was dating someone else too, he told me, and -"

"This has been going on like this for how long?"

"I don't know. Does it matter?"

"I never realized it. I feel like a stupid fool."

"You're not a stupid fool. I was just assuming so many dumb things. I had to get over it. I mean, now I finally understand. I'm over it. See, I don't have to date more than one person at a time just because Jeremy says that's how everyone is."

"So you were dating me just to have a second person because you thought that's the way it is?"

"No, really, you were the first person. Clay was the second – well it doesn't matter. It happened all about the same time. I - "

"How did you even have time for all this, Taryn? With your parents getting divorced, too."

"My grades aren't very good. It has been hard to concentrate on school. You're busy with rehearsals and school."

"Not that busy."

He looked like he was thinking. Believing she was getting somewhere with him, Taryn tried to put her arm around him.

He looked so desirable just now.

But her flung her arm off.

"Come on, Toby," she said. "You don't look like a fool. Clay knew so he helped keep the secret. I mean, he could see you and I dancing and not think anything was wrong."

"Clay _knew_?"

Taryn could see that she had just made things worse.

"Only, because, only because he was being that way too."

"What way?"

"Thinking of dating two people. You don't think that's right and neither do it. It just took me this time to figure it out."

"It's not that," he said. "Somehow I just thought you wouldn't want to. I just never thought we were that casual I guess."

"We aren't that casual!" Taryn said. "I just didn't want to be more serious than you were. That's how Jeremy made me feel. I felt like a fool for being so in love with him I was disappointed he wanted to date other girls. And so I thought well, I won't fall that way again. But you can't stop it, just because you want to be cool doesn't mean you can be."

"So you still want to go out?" he said.

"Yes," she said.

"I'll have to think about it," he said.

"I'm not going to see Clay or anyone else," Taryn said, feeling surer now. She wanted to hug him but had the thought that it would be better if he would do it. "We can talk about it, baby," she went on. Shut up, she told herself.

It was almost unbearable to watch him without trying to say something new to make her case. But she could see how she could unmake it, too.

"I guess it is tough to trust a guy with your father walking out like he did," Toby said. "I know when my mother left my father, it gave me this insecure feeling."

"You're so able to see things," Taryn said. "That's what I like about you."

"Let me think about it for awhile," he picked up his guitar. "I'll see you later, Taryn."

Taryn had an urge to run after him, but forced herself to stay put. The last thought he'd had, that might get him to see what she had done in the most forgiving light.

Taryn took a deep breath. She needed someone to talk to. Clay was the best one, ironically.

But she knew she couldn't do that.


	6. Jax and his Fiancee

Jasper Jax's fiancee, Oksana, had wanted to avoid a double wedding with Jax's brother Jerry, on the ground that Jax, unlike his older brother and his new bride, and she herself, Jax had never been married before.

Then Jax realized that though his bride-to-be had been married before, she had not had a big wedding either. Soon after she and Sergei had defected, they had gotten married before the clerk of the peace, with no relatives.

He had started getting this information out of her by asking her about her experience with planning weddings and whether she needed any help.

"But you had no real family affair either, then," he said. "Your parents weren't even there, nor his. They can be there this time."

"His could not have been," she said. "They had died already. But mine, yes, they can be here this time." She smiled as though she realized that for the first time.

"Then you are going to be a real bride," he said, sweeping her into his arms and dancing around the room with her. They were in her living room, and her parents were sitting across the room, talking. They both looked up, beaming, at the handsome couple dancing to some tune only they could hear.

"At my age?" Oksana asked.

"Yes, even though you are such an old lady, you shall have a white dress, and bridesmaids, and all that, a good fashioned wedding."

"I feel silly, but," she said, looking up at him, "You should have it."

"Ah, me, the excuse," he said, smiling his most charming smile. "What good is a wedding without a bridegroom?"

"Not much good," Oksana said, trying to pretend to be serious. He laughed and picked her up.

"Put me down! What are you doing?"

"Practicing carrying you over the threshold, don't you Russians have any customs in common with the rest of us."

"No," Oksana said, but she put her arms around his neck and let him carry her.

He carried her out into the hall.

"Just boring, drab, Soviet wedding chapels," he said, having heard a little bit from her and her brother Mikhail about weddings in the Soviet era.

"Yes, with the party insignia," she said, pretending to be annoyed at him.

He kissed her cheek and put her down. "We're going to make an American out of you yet, comrade," he said. Then he kissed her on the top of the head.

"You too," she said. "But we will never get rid of your accent. I hope."

"You like my way of speaking the Queen's English, do you?" he twinkled. "I think you like my Russian, too."

"That needs much work."

"I'm in the right place," he said.

"Yes," she answered. "You are in the right place. The best place for you."

"So you believe me now, when I say I am perfect for you?"

She kissed him for an answer.


	7. Oksana's House

The wedding planning was underway.

There were to be bachelor parties, though somewhat subdued. Oksana's would be at Luke's Bar while Jax's went on at his brother Jerry's Restaurant, the Outback.

Oksana was much loved at Deception - she was a co-owner of that company - and so she got plenty of help from there. The wedding was to be in the gardens at Oksana's house, but when it came to make up and clothes, the models and designers and cosmetologists of Deception were happy to help with it all.

The employees were excited. They were invited to the wedding. When they saw the dashing corporate raider in the halls, they would run to tell others he was there.

"It's like our own wedding or a sister's wedding," Laraine Breyer, an accountant at the company, said to Gia Campbell Cassidine, a model and now part time manager at the company, who had just come in to accounting to change her automatic deposit. On the way there, she had seen Jax in the elevator. Naturally, she reported it to the first employee she talked to.

"Yes, I remember my wedding," Gia said. "Oksana let me have time off for it and we did pictures of it."

"I know, I've seen them in the halls. You are beautiful in those pictures. I mean, you always are. But those wedding pictures are so dreamy."

"Thank you," Gia said with a smile. "I have maternity leave now, too, good thing."

"Oh really! Congratulations!"

Gia just beamed. "I'm due a couple of months after my aunt-in-law," she said. "Alexis Davis-Jacks. Jax's sister in law. She's going to be Oksana's maid of honor even though she's out to here." Gia made a motion supposed to cover her estimate of the size of a women in her third trimester.

"The Cassidine family expands," Laraine said.

"Yes, sure does," Gia said. She took the papers she had come for. Laraine handed them to her, and said, "Well, good luck with it all. I'm sure I'll see you at the wedding."

"Thank you, you too," Gia said. "Is your brother's band still playing at London Underground?"

"A lot of the time," Laraine said. "The Dissenters. You know them?"

"They're good," Gia said, "really, pretty good. I like them."

"That's great to hear. I'll pass that on to them."

"Sure," Gia said. "Bye now."

Back at the house, things were busy for Rosa and her two nieces, Lisa and Diana. Rosa was the butler at Oksana's house. Lisa and Diana, her nieces, had jobs working under her supervision.

Lisa was the gardener. The wedding was going to take place outside, so Lisa was working to get the garden to a state of perfection. She kept her eye on the weather reports, and made plans for rain. Her younger sister, Diana, laughed and teased her about how far ahead the weather reports could possibly be accurate. "You're going to monitor the wind patterns in Asia next," she said.

"If that'll help," Lisa said, and she went back to pruning.

When they had first come up from Florida to work for Oksana - it was the second time for Rosa, as she had been Oksana's children's nanny when they were little – only Oksana and her younger son Peter lived in the house. They had come up to live in the same town with Oksana's older son, Aleksandr, or Sander as he had been known, thought he had changed it to Zander in the time since he had run away. He had been missing for years and was quite estranged from his parents.

But in time and with some help from Gail Baldwin, the psychiatrist who had worked with Oksana and Zander, the two of them had moved into an uneasy truce and that worked its way back into a fairly affectionate relationship. During that time, Zander had moved into the gate house, and now Zander was married and lived there with his wife, Quinn, a nurse he had met while a patient at the hospital, who had been involved in getting Zander reunited with his family.

Eventually, with the help of Zander's lawyer and friend Alexis, who in the process became a friend of Oksana's, Oksana had finally gotten her parents' immigration issues straightened out, which added her parents to the household, and then eventually even her brother Mikhail and his eleven year old daughter Irina.

The house was plenty big enough for all of these people. But it was more work for Rosa. She did it gladly, though. They were talking about getting a cook. Oksana's mother, Anna did some cooking, and liked it, and she and Rosa got along fine. Rosa was just so happy for Oksana to have her parents there, and even more so for her boys (as she thought of Zander and Peter) to have their grandparents for real for the first time in their lives, there could hardly be enough work for her to do.

Now they would have Jasper Jax, a whole new addition which would turn an already topsy turvy household upside down.

But this Rosa did not mind, either, and was excited about, in fact. She had never dreamed such a wonderful thing would happen to Oksana - she had just always been so businesslike before, and so about how to spite her ex husband Sergei Kanishchev, that it was wonderful to see the changes in her. Love did wonderful things for a person, Rosa reflected. She was happy about both of her nieces' boyfriends, too. There was Lucky Spencer, a photographer Lisa had been dating for awhile, and Tim Connor, a boy who was just about to graduate from high school, but who was sincere and sweet, and loved Diana, who was 19, like crazy, and was Quinn's younger brother, which was even better.

Then developments indicated that there might be yet another person in the house, for a time, at least.

Joe Quinn was Quinn's godfather and namesake, and a member of the Connor family by sentiment if not by blood. Years ago, he had been married to a Korean woman, Ha Neul Park, who had a son named Jin Ho Nu. Ha Neul had left Joe a long time ago, and he had not seen either she or her son in years. But recently, Jin Ho had found Joe and asked him for help, because his mother Na Neul had Alzheimer's.

Joe and Quinn had driven up to Maine with Jin Ho to see Ha Neul. They needed to find a new place for her to stay. Quinn was going to help Joe with that. In the meantime, Ha Neul had to leave the place she was at, and so they needed a temporary place for her to stay. Joe was going to take her to his house, though she was his ex-wife, and he hadn't seen her in years.

Quinn didn't want him to cope with that alone, though. She thought of her mother-in-law's house, because there were so many people, someone was always there, and there would be plenty of help.

When Quinn brought that up to Zander and Oksana, they were immediately on board with this plan, and Rosa and Lisa and Diana were happy to do it. They loved Joe, too, and the entire Connor family - they had done so much to help Zander and Peter that anything the Connor family needed, the Kanishchev family was ready to do.

So that Ha Neul went from unfortunate to lucky. From having no place to go to being in a place where, though she could not really talk to anyone, there were plenty of people to talk to and take care of her. Oksana's parents, and Jax's parents, who were always around, seemed to take this job under their sway especially. Then there was Joe, and Danny and Kathleen Connor to come over and help, sometimes with their youngest son, Brad, Danny's parents, and Kathleen's mother. There was Tim too, of course, and Lucky Spencer with his sister or mother or grandmother. There was no shortage of hands.

People came over to that house, just because it was a bustling and happy and joyful place to be.


	8. Jasper Jacks' Life to Date

Jaspar Jax had always been among the child free, in that he had loved living the high life of a wealthy bachelor. He jetted around the world, charmed the most beautiful women, and was dedicated to his life and his parents and his brother. He had had one serious relationship that ended when the girl was caught between he and another man, and chose the other man.

Had she chosen him, he might have decided to settle down and have children, but to him it was all just a sign that fate had chosen him for the high life. From time to time he had considered that his best friend, V. Ardanowski, might make a good wife, but decided that they had too good a friendship to mess things up. V. was his touchstone and they were each other's back up dates. Now V. would need someone else for that, but if she needed it, Jax would certainly find someone. As it turned out, someone else had unexpectedly stepped in and found V. a date for Jax's wedding. Jax demanded to know who it was, and checked him out. He was a high school teacher at Port Charles High, and too young for V., so Jax thought, but for a wedding date he would do.

Jax had an unerring eye for a good deal or for a thing that his gut told him was going to work. He had met Oksana Kanishcheva at the wedding of his friend Alexis' nephew. He had started out trying to get her to help him in his business maneuverings against her ex-husband, Sergei Kanishchev, who was on the board of ELQ with Jax (having taken over the position of Sonny Corinthos, who happened to be the mobster Jax had lost his first love to).

The rest of the ELQ board was made up of members of the Quartermaine family, who were very happy to rid their corporate board of the organized crime lord.

Meanwhile Oksana had bought out a share of Deception, another company, getting rid of organized crime figures for that company also. For awhile Jax was concerned that this was due to Sonny being wiped out by other and worse, namely, Russian, organized crime. But Jax had it all checked out and the Kanishchevs were all right.

Jax attempted to take over Deception, but soon lost interest in that and gained interest in its co-owner. Eventually, his gut told him he had found that one woman who was meant for him. She was so unlike him in surface characteristics, but so like him in fundamentals. It didn't matter that she was seven years older and that her children were two grown young men – Zander had just gotten married and Peter was about to graduate from high school – and so he, Jax would remain childless. Besides, at the last minute, his brother Jerry had managed to create the next Jacks generation by having a child with Alexis Davis, his new wife. Jax was happy in the thought of becoming the doting uncle.

But in the meantime, all paternal instincts Jax had fell to where they naturally would go, under his circumstances, and that was to Zander and Peter.

Kara, Peter's girlfriend, had been the subject of a health scare earlier that year. She'd undergone surgery and chemotherapy for a benign brain tumor. She had just gotten out from under the chemo and her hair was just growing out. She was a bit sensitive about her appearance, and wanted to keep wearing a scarf until her hair could grow out some more. A friend had suggested that maybe with some styling, she could have decent looking short hair. Kara didn't seem to like that idea much. Apparently she just didn't feel very attractive with short hair. Peter couldn't get her to take the scarf off even for him. (This scarf had been her strategy for dealing with the hair loss, as it seemed she didn't like wigs, either).

Now she was in a quandary about going to her boyfriend's mother's wedding and/or her senior prom with a scarf on. She was willing to consider the short hairstyle.

Jax got all this out of Peter, talking to him one evening in the kitchen of Oksana's mansion, a room which everyone gravitated to for gathering purposes. Jax had some help from Rosa, but mainly it was his fatherly, kind-hearted questioning that got the whole story out.

Jax suggested that Oksana's company could step in and help Kara with hair, make-up, wardrobe, the whole shebang. Kara could feel like a million dollars by the time they were done. In fact, she would look great with all those pros having worked on every aspect of her appearance. This sounded logical to Peter, so he said he would pass the idea on to Kara.

Jax knew he was promising things of his future wife's company, but knew it would be OK for this particular purpose. Other than that, he planned to keep his nose out of Oksana's business, generally believing that she would stamp him down flat if he interfered.

Zander was a grown man but still, Jax checked up on him every once in awhile. Zander had a feeling what he was doing, but it only made him smile. Jasper Jacks was a bonus to all of their lives, so he didn't plan on giving him any attitude. Jax seemed to check out whether Zander was OK with his school - did he have all his books and the like. These were silly questions, but the way they showed that Jax cared about his new stepfather role more than made up for that.

Zander had never thought of either of his parents getting married again - their marriage had been so unsuccessful generally that it had looked as if neither of them was marriage material. But they had both settled down somewhat.

"Now what about your Dad?" Quinn said to him one day.

Zander laughed. "You think we can fix him up?"

"It'll be a challenge, but we can do it. But let's bask in the glory of this one first."

He went over to her and pulled her close.

"Yeah, getting Mom hitched is a major accomplishment," he said.

They looked at each other and laughed.


	9. Taryn Consults V and Elizabeth

Taryn went to the boxcar in the woods. There she found her mentor, the person she talked to about most of her problems.

Elizabeth was her Uncle Paul's wife, older than Taryn, but not so much older that she didn't understand things.

V. Ardanowski was often there, too. V. was similar, and very helpful and kind, Taryn thought.

They were both artists, and had commandeered the boxcar as a studio. They were often to be seen there, working separately or together. Recently, they'd both had pieces entered into an exhibition downtown.

"I'm in luck," Taryn said, climbing in. "But you're not. Tell me to go away if you need to concentrate."

"What happened?" V. asked.

"I just broke up with Clay and then Toby told me he found out about me and Clay and now Toby's going to break up with me."

Elizabeth stifled a laugh. "Sorry, Taryn, but it's so perfect an end to this mess."

"Oh, you can laugh," Taryn said. "But Jere-no I'm not going to say the J word. I finally realized what I wanted in the first place was one boyfriend. And Toby wants one girlfriend."

"Makes you perfect for each other," Elizabeth said. "I agree."

"How did Toby find out?" V. asked.

"He has this snooping brother named Chad who saw me with Clay."

"His brother spied on you?"

"Well, no. Not really. But he saw me with Clay. He ran to Toby and tattled."

"Dunno," Elizabeth said. "I think Chad did right by Toby."

"Toby would never have known and this way Toby has his feelings hurt!" Taryn argued.

"But Toby knows the truth," V. said. "It's better for you, really, to get it all out rather than trying to hide it."

"Yes," Elizabeth agreed.

"I don't know," Taryn said. "A lot of time the truth getting out just makes more problems. Everybody doesn't have to know everything."

V. only smiled. "The trouble is greater the longer it is before someone finds out a thing," she said.

"Not always," Taryn said. "If Toby hadn't found out about this for another year or two, would he have been madder?"

"Maybe not," V. conceded. "But if you don't want him to find out, you have to hide it, and you didn't succeed, since his brother just saw you. Found you with no effort. I wish a lot of witnesses I'm looking for would be like that."

Elizabeth smiled. "Maybe Chad should be a police officer."

"He certainly has the knack for being in the right place at the right time," Taryn said. "That is, the right time for a snoop."

Elizabeth and V. exchanged amused glances.

"Well, I'm going to go all out to get Toby to forgive me," Taryn said. "I'm not sure what to do yet. Instinct says leave him alone for a little while. Another instinct says get to him before his brother can talk him more into breaking up with me."

"The first one is sound," Elizabeth said. "If he comes to you, it will be much easier for you."

Taryn sighed, exasperated. "You're right. Another aggravation. At least I got through the DUI thing without mom finding out."

"Thank God for small favors," V. added, as she added some paint onto her canvas.

"Yes, thank God," Taryn agreed.


	10. Amanda and Amy

Amanda Friel actually had a date to Oksana's wedding.

She hadn't been on a date in ages. Jackson Delaney had called her, it seemed out of the blue, and asked her to go to the wedding with him.

It felt like a date. She knew they would both have been there anyway. But calling her to make a point of it seemed to mean something.

Amy considered it to be a date and got into the subject of what Amanda should wear. When it came to things like this, Amanda's younger sister was more opinionated. Amy may have been in high school, but when it came to dates, Amanda needed help. That Amy had no experience with dating whatsoever didn't stop her from helping Amanda.

Amanda just smiled, and didn't mind. Amy, visiting at Amanda's apartment, went through Amanda's closet, pronounced that none of it would do, and commanded her older sister to go with her to Wyndam's.

They told their father about this at their weekly Sunday brunch. Amanda came home for this whenever she could.

"You need a date, too, Dad," Amy observed.

Amanda was almost shocked for a second. Rick never dated, not even for things like this.

But it had been four years now, since their mother had died. Maybe it was time for him to start feeling single again. Amanda knew she herself had no such reasons, but felt expansive on the subject, since she was going on a date to the same wedding.

"Yeah, Dad," Amanda said. "you and I can be each other's support. I haven't been on a date in forever, and neither have you, and maybe you could start thinking of things like this."

"You should be going on dates," Rick said. "But it's different for me."

"I know, but you won't just stay alone forever," Amy piped in. "I hope."

"Yeah, Dad, if Duane can do it, you can," Amanda said. "One year for him, four for you. You don't have to pick someone that young, of course."

"Divorced people can bounce back easier," Rick asserted. "They were sour on their marriage to begin with. Mine was just got stronger and stronger until the end. And pick who? Really, I can't think of anyone to ask."

"Come on Dad," Amanda said. "Really, you can't find a single woman?"

"At my age they are pretty rare," he said.

"I have an idea," Amy said. "But I'm not going to say, since you're in a rejecting mood."

Rick looked curious. Amy just smiled mysteriously.

"You're going to tell me, though, right?" Amanda asked, ruffling Amy's hair.

"Oh, sure, Amanda," Amy said. "I'll tell you my idea."

Later, when Amy was going through her closet to decide what to wear to school tomorrow, Amanda remembered what Amy had said at brunch about a date for Rick.

"I think he likes Detective Ardanowski," Amy said.

Amanda looked like she hadn't considered it, but was willing to. "It was about her doing her job well, and mainly directed at disciplining you," she said, to test the argument.

"Yes, all true, but somehow there was something extra wrong with wasting Detective Ardanowski's time," Amy said. "And some reason to keep contacting her to apologize."

Amanda looked more interested. "How can we help him with this?" she asked. She knew Zander and Quinn had helped her, and realized most people needed some help with things like this. She truly wondered if Jackson would have asked her to be his date for the wedding without Zander and Quinn saying a thing here, inviting them both to the same place there.

"Get him arrested," Amy said. "What about the garden?"

"You wouldn't!" Amanda stood bolt upright.

Amy just smirked.

"That could be dangerous," Amanda said. "And it should have been cleared away by now. And it was for Mom."

"And Mom would have wanted him to find someone else," Amy said.

"I think that's true," Amanda said. "Maybe that's Mom's legacy - for Dad. But really Amy -" she stopped, seeing Amy's face fall into a big smile. In spite of herself, she smiled too.


	11. Rick Finds a Date

Tatiana had been right. She'd gone straight to Oksana's house. There, to her amazement, was her ex-husband, along with her former in-laws.

America was indeed an amazing land.

Her former in-laws were glad to see her. They had never really disliked her.

Mikhail wanted to know when Irina was coming. Tatiana told him they were getting her a ticket now, and not to worry, she would be here in time for her aunt's wedding.

Tatiana congratulated Oksana on getting married. Oksana shook her hand and thanked her. She introduced Tatiana to her fiance. He and his parents were there. All of them spoke English in yet another way, and Tatiana needed a lot of help.

She was going to have to learn more English.

Later, she got a chance to talk to Mikhail. He was taking a course and his nephew Zander was working with him a lot. Mikhail wondered why Tatiana was so curious. She wouldn't be in the US all that long. Tatiana explained she was just wondering. Irina had learned a lot of it and wanted to learn more.

Mikhail did help her find a cheaper hotel. That did some good. It wasn't exactly a hotel, but a little room over a coffee shop called Kelly's. Cheap, and not so bad. It compared at least to the first few places she had lived in back at home, when she first went out on her own.

There was a cheap diner downstairs (cheap for America, that was). She drank a cup of coffee and watched the people at the counter. It was a really easy going place. She was able to order the cup of coffee and pay for it in English.

They had a "Help Wanted" sign up. Tatiana thought she would try to see if she could get the job. She had no permission to work in the U.S. In fact the customs agent had specifically told her she could be deported if she worked.

But she didn't see any customs agents standing around at Kelly's.

Across town, Duane Edwards saw Rick Friel in the lobby of the building where Jax Corporation had some of its offices. Duane was in that building for a deposition at a law firm that had an office there. Duane was a trial lawyer and that meant a lot of depositions.

He convinced Rick to go to the London Underground.

At the bar, Rick told Duane of his date problem. "I know you don't know what to do either," he said. "It seems to me that Sarah just came along out of the blue."

"Yes," Duane said. "But there's Patti. Patti Polk. She comes in here, quite a bit. Loves to dance. She just got divorced. But she might be willing to go just so you'll have a date. Her husband left her. But dancing makes her feel better. Ask her to dance."

"Who's that?" Rick said. He was curious in spite of himself.

"There she is," Duane said. "I solved your problem already."

Rick wanted to protest, but before he knew it, Duane had the woman there and was introducing Rick to her.

Rick stammered hello. She was a pretty woman, about the same age as he and Duane, maybe a little younger. It came out that she had a teenaged daughter who was dating one of the guys in Duane's daughter's band. The guitarist, Toby. Rick heard them talking about this, and some of it registered. Yet his mouth felt dry. He wondered that he could be so nervous about something like this. He felt sixteen again.

"You could try asking for a dance," Duane said, laughing, and Patti smiled. "He needs a date to his bosses' wedding," Duane said. "Jasper Jacks."

"Oh, I'm a good matchmaker," Patti said. "I already fixed up someone a date for that very wedding."

"Good work," said Duane.

"It was Detective Ardanowski," Patti said. "I fixed her up with Clay the bartender's brother, Matt."

"Ardanowski needed help, did she?" Duane said. "So does Rick."

Rick's stomach churned. Ardanowski. She had a date.

Well, why should that bother him?

"Go ahead, dance," Duane said. Rick went out to the dance floor with Patti, barely noticing that he needed fixing up for such a small thing as a dance.

"So you like dancing," he stammered.

"It's relaxing. Don't you like it?"

"Oh, I do. I just haven't done it in so long."

"Are you divorced, too?"

"No, I'm a widower."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. That must be much harder."

"In some ways yes, in some ways no, I imagine."

"Yes," Patti said. "I've had this terrible thought that it would be easier for me if my ex had died rather than left me for another woman. I feel horrible about thinking that. My brother's a psychiatrist, though, and he said it's common."

"Not sure it's even wrong," Rick said. "It could be so much more painful. It's a rejection. Death is not. But then I think that could be what makes it harder to move on, though," he went on, amazed at how much he was discussing with Patti. "I'm sorry," he said. "You just met me and I'm telling you my personal feelings."

"I understand," Patti said. "I do that, too. It's being involved in this kind of thing that we have in common."

"So how did you find a date for Detective Ardanowski?" he asked, trying to lighten his tone.

"Just serendipity," she said. "Matt Delaney gave me a ride home one night when my car wouldn't start. I thought how much fun it could be to - I don't know - go out with him, just for a fun time, you know? But how he is too young for me. So I guess I just had him in mind for a single man when V. said she had no date. Surprising, she's such a pretty woman. So interesting. An artist and a cop at the same time. So personable and friendly. I felt like I knew her pretty well fifteen minutes after I had met her. Do you know her?"

"Yes, actually," he said, glad they had something in common to talk about. He told her about the mix-up when he had thought his daughter Amy was missing.

"That sounds scary," Patti said. "I have an 18 year old daughter, about to graduate from Mercy High. I know how it is when they get independent."

They talked about teenaged girls and the difficulties involved in being the parents of such creatures for a while.

"I'm not always on top of things, dealing with Amy on my own," Rick said. "Fortunately, my late wife, Joyce, was still around when Amanda was a teenager. But then, Amanda was such an easy teenager. She got good grades and never did anything to worry us."

"Taryn's not doing so well in school, but the divorce – I think she's doing OK considering that. She had a boyfriend she broke up with and that seemed to make her unhappy. But she still chugs along. A survivor, I think. I hope."

"She sounds lovely."

"So you need a date to that wedding?" Patti asked.

"Not really. But my older daughter thought it might be a good idea."

"I don't have anyone at this late date but me," Patti said.

"Well," he said, trying to smile, and feeling weird since it had been decades since he had asked anyone on a date. "Will you go with me?"

Patti laughed. "Sure," she said. "Be glad to be of service."


	12. Patti gets a Heartbreak

Patti went home later. It was getting to be that time she dreaded, the alternate Friday evening when her ex-husband, Kevin, picked the children up to go and spend the weekend with him.

With him and that woman – a young woman who Kevin had left Patti for. Patti thought it was a travesty of justice that said woman should be allowed to speak to the Polk children at all. But Patti's divorce lawyer, Melinda Delaney, had said there was nothing that could be done about that. Children couldn't be kept from their father, since it wasn't good for them, no matter what he'd done and no matter who his associates were. The courts apparently weren't considerate enough to consider the very existence of this woman as the insult that it was. Patti didn't see how that woman could say one word to any of Patti's children without it being in some way harmful.

But then in her less angry moments, Patti was at least a little mollified that Kevin still cared about his children enough to take them every other weekend. It appeared he did spend time with them, doing things and going places, on his weekends. So he wasn't doing it just to rub it in Patti's face that he'd left her. Or so it seemed. The children came back, usually saying they'd had a good time. The youngest, Dasha, would be a little bratty, but she usually had recovered by the time she was home from school on Monday.

Tony, who was ten, and Dasha, who was seven, had their bags packed. Patti went through them to make sure they had their toothbrushes and enough clothes. Dasha usually forgot her toothbrush no matter how many times Patti reminded her to pack it. Taryn was eighteen now, and she handled her stuff on her own. Patti saw her putting a newspaper into her bag but didn't say anything. It was just a good thing that Taryn was reading a newspaper.

Their bags sat there as they waited. To pass the time, Tony and Dasha played on gameboys. Taryn paced around in the hallway, and tried to call someone on her cell phone, expressing exasperation at getting the voice mail "again." A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

Patti opened the door to Kevin, and let him in. "Hey, team," Kevin greeted his offspring this way. "Ready to go?"

"Yep," Dasha said, ending her game and getting up. Tony made Kevin wait about thirty seconds to finish up a section of the game. Taryn rolled her eyes and picked up Dasha's gameboy to make sure she took it along.

Patti went to the doorway, where she usually stood to watch them get into the car.

She looked out into the driveway. Kevin's car was not there, but a late model BMW.

It was her car. And she was at the driver's seat, waiting.

Kevin had brought her with him to pick up the children.

All Patti could see was a blonde head. It was enough.

"How could you?" she asked Kevin. To her horror, tears started to fill her eyes.

"Not in front of the kids," Kevin said, leaning on that as power to stop her.

"You could come alone to pick them up," Patti said.

"Be quiet, Patti," Kevin said. "If you have issues with me, discuss them out of the kids hearing."

Taryn rolled her eyes. "Why'd you do it, Dad? To rub it in Mom's face?"

"Be quiet, Taryn and go get in the car," he said.

Taryn hugged Patti and said, "Don't worry about it, Mom."

Tony and Dasha stood still, as if they thought something had gone wrong and there might be a change of plan and they weren't going after all.

"Go ahead," Patti said to them, reassuringly, hugging each one of them.

They said goodbye to her and they said the usual "see you Sunday night."

"Really, Patti," Kevin said. "My lawyer said you're not supposed to try to turn them against me."

"I'm sure you're not supposed to bring her here," Patti said. "You just did that to insult me."

"I just did that because we're all going somewhere," he said. "And it's most convenient, that's all."

"Convenient to you, that is. Which is all that matters."

"What difference does it make to you, Patti? It's not like she's coming in for tea."

"No surprise that you don't understand," Patti said.

"You have to learn to be more practical, Patti," Kevin said. "Now I have to deal with Taryn."

"You'll always have to deal with Taryn," Patti said. "You'll never live down what you did."

"Then you stop turning her against me."

"I don't have to! What you did is enough alone!"

"You're the parent."

"So are you and you can't expect me to tell Taryn that she should believe what you did is all just fine and dandy. A man's prerogative. To leave his wife when he's tired of her for a younger model."

"They're waiting," Kevin said. He turned and went to the car.

Patti watched it drive away. She normally made one last wave to the children, but she couldn't do it this time.


	13. Sean's New Apartment

Sean met Glen Hancock and saw several apartments. Glen was a real estate agent and he was quite helpful, listening to the facts of Sean's life and work to guide him into looking at just the right place.

The place Sean finally decided on was as near to downtown as it could be without really being downtown, not much further from the law offices of Baldwin and Baldwin than it was from the Courthouse. Sean was an associate at that firm and had been so busy he hadn't gotten any better residence than a room over Kelly's.

Sean moved into the new place, but as was typical for him as to personal matters, did not bring anything other than what he'd had at his room at Kelly's. Time was at a premium for him, and he could only get so much non-work related stuff accomplished on any given day.

Finally, one day he had time to go to Wyndham's for a mattress and a bed. Another day, he had a chance to go to Wyndham's to look for a couch. He had a refrigerator, but so far no need for kitchen utensils, until it occurred to him that, having his own home now, he might have a chance to cook for himself once in a while, and might not have to eat at Kelly's. He had eaten enough at Kelly's to be rather familiar with, and tired of, Kelly's meals.

So he went back to Wyndham's again to look for silverware and utensils. By this time, he was starting to be familiar to the staff.

He flirted with the salesgirls as he usually did, since you never know when one of them might need a lawyer. He laughed at their lawyer jokes and flattered them.

"Still looking for your next conquest, I see," said a voice behind him.

Sean recognized the voice instantly. It was Skye Quartermaine, the one woman in his life who had managed to find a way to dump him. Well, you could count Quinn Connor, too. But she might not have dumped him had he not proposed too soon. From that experience, he'd learned not to assume anything. Then it turned out that could be overcorrected too, with Skye. He'd sort of assumed that he could have a little fling with someone else and unfortunately, Skye had caught him and then walked out on him.

Females were strange creatures. A little too little, or a little too much, and you were history.

"Conquest for what?" his eyes took on a serious look. He was amused but decided that with Skye, it was better to play the part of the heartbroken and remorseful former boyfriend.

"For whatever," Skye said. She had a bag with her. She had probably been shopping for clothes.

"More clothes?" Sean said. "Nobody will ever have to worry about seeing you in the buff."

She laughed. "No, but well," she lowered her voice. "That's something some may see, but you, never again."

"Never say never," he said. "I got a new apartment."

"You did? Where?" she asked, in spite of herself. "I'm looking for a place myself," she went on, as if amending her thoughts. "So I want to know where not to look."

"It's a great place, why don't you get a place there. Just because I have one there?" he asked. "Doesn't it mean, if you want to avoid me, that I still have the ability to -"

"Oh, shut up, Sean," she said. "Just because I don't want to be reminded of you doesn't mean I still want to have anything to do with you."

"So you're finally thinking of moving out from the family cocoon," he said. "Good for you. Sergei give you a raise?"

"None of your business, Sean."

"No, just making conversation."

"Why?"

"Because I like to talk to you, that's why."

There was a silence.

"Are you ever going to forgive me, Skye?" Sean said.

"Never!" she said, about to walk away. Then she stopped. "Well," she continued, "I'm not perfect. I make mistakes too. This one of yours just – well it just really pissed me off!"

"But if you don't give a damn about me, then,"

"All right, all right, I get your point," Skye answered. "Totally get it."

"Why don't you come by and see my place, Skye?" he said. "At least it can give you some ideas about apartment hunting. And you can help me with the decorating. If you come by, you'll see how awful I am at it. You might have some good ideas."

Skye looked like she was considering. Sean had the wisdom to shut up at this point. He was aware (from Skye's reprimands and recommendations) that he needed to learn when to do that.

"What's the address?" she asked.

"12D Fairview Court," he told her. "Come by any time you want."

"I'll think about it," Skye said.


	14. Skye and Maureen

Skye went over to a new hang out she had: her brother Jason's condo.

Jason had moved into the condo with Maureen Donovan, his nurse girlfriend.

Skye and Jason's grandfather had said he was proud of Jason for his independence, which at first floored Skye but on later thought, did not surprise her. Whatever Jason did was right.

If she or AJ had tried the exact same thing, they'd never hear the end of it from their family, Skye thought. It would be abandoning their family.

Jason and Maureen even had a little separate-entrance suite for Emily in their condo. Emily was really pleased with it, and their parents were really pleased with Jason for being so thoughtful.

But if Emily could do it, Skye thought she could. The idea of her own place was even more attractive from the time she spent over at Jason's. She could relax. There was no threat that her Grandfather or one of her parents or her stupid cousin, Ned, would come in and make a damn stupid or annoying or irritating remark, or ask a difficult, pressuring question.

AJ apparently had no plan to move out. The idea was that his girlfriend Joanna and her two kids would move in. If the Family made life impossible for Joanna, then AJ would move out with his girlfriend and her two children and his one child.

AJ had taken a job at Jax Corporation, so there was already tension at Quartermaine Mansion.

But considering where they'd all been a year ago, things were amazingly good, Skye thought. There were two non-family board members on the ELQ Board. Skye worked for one of them and AJ for the other. And so far, the family had not imploded.

Edward muttered comments to the effect that of all the companies in the world, AJ and Skye specifically picked the two most uncongenial to ELQ. But really, Skye thought, Grandfather was wrong. Or he knew he was wrong and was just posturing. What could be more natural than that they work for those companies, and what was bad about it? The Family had an insider at these companies that were supposedly so dangerous.

Grandfather also talked, as he always had, as if every other company in the world thought of nothing but how to take over ELQ. That was stupid. She knew from working with Sergei and Alter Corporation that they worked for their company to succeed. They never thought about ELQ.

Maureen brought a tray with a teapot and cups into the living room. She poured a cup for herself and for Skye.

"This is so sociable," Skye said. "Unlike at home."

"Come over whenever you want," Maureen said. "How are things?"

"I saw Sean in Wyndham's the other day," Skye said.

"Really? Did you talk to him?"

"Yes. He was looking for furniture for his new apartment."

"He finally moved out of Kelly's."

"Yes. He kept inviting me to see it. Which I declined, of course."

"Do you want to see it?"

"Only to compare apartments. I'm thinking of looking for one myself."

"Well, why not have a look at it?"

"I may. He was talking about furniture. I like what you two have done with this place."

"We had a good time picking it all out," Maureen said.

"How is it living with Jason?"

"Wonderful," Maureen said. "He even did the dishes the other night."

"Thought he wouldn't know that job existed, did you?" Skye said, a smile curving her lips.

"Yeah," Maureen said, smiling a little. "I always had maids growing up, too, but I'd had my own place at least for a little while. How about you? If you get your own place, you'll need to learn about all those little chores."

"Yes," Skye said. "Maybe I'll hire a maid."

Maureen laughed. "That's not a bad idea, either," she said.

"Sean acts like he can make friends again," Skye said. "Naturally, he would think so."

"It takes two for that," Maureen said. "Sean doesn't have all the control."

"He'd love it if he did! But he doesn't. So there, Sean! He's doing well at work, from what I hear. But I suppose a big mouth like him would succeed as a lawyer."

"Yes. Is he going out with anyone else?"

"Not that I can catch him with."

Maureen smiled. "You can outsmart him, even if he thinks you can't."

Skye smiled to herself. "I certainly could," she said.


	15. Patti at her Lawyer's Office

Patti had been so upset after Kevin had come by the house with his floozy driving her fancy BMW, that'd she'd been in tears.

On Monday, she called her lawyer, Melinda Delaney. She got an appointment for late that afternoon and made arrangements to leave work early.

Chad Breyer asked her how she was doing, looking concerned.

"I look that bad, do I?" Patti said.

"It's just that I know you're going through a divorce. So something's happening. You can talk to me about it if you want to."

"Thank you, that's kind. But I won't take you from your work."

"Hey, sometimes I need a break. That's why I bug you."

Patti smiled.

When she got to the law offices of Baldwin and Baldwin, she had a little while to wait. The waiting room was often crowded. There would be other clients, court reporters, and lawyers with briefcases. Patti absentmindedly looked through an old _Port Charles Gazette_.

Suddenly, her eye caught a name.

Taryn Polk. Well, that name was familiar.

Odd, Patti thought, that her 18-year-old daughter could have her name in the newspaper and it not come up in the family. They'd all be proud of Taryn for her fame.

Patti thought she might be in another universe as she read the article. Taryn, so this article claimed, was pleading guilty to disturbing the peace, and got community service as a sentence.

But how could that be? How could all that happen and Patti not know?

Melinda Delaney's secretary came to the door and called Patti in.

"You look pale," Melinda said. "Can I get you some water? Are you OK?"

Patti gulped and handed Melinda the paper. "I didn't know a thing about this," she said. "And that's not even why I came."

"Sit down," Melinda said. Patti sat down, staring out the glass wall at the business area of Port Charles. Melinda Delaney had a corner office with a great view.

Patti could hear Melinda telling her secretary to "get Mrs. Polk a bottle of water."

A few minutes later, the secretary came in with a cup of ice and a plastic-bottled water. She looked at Patti with great sympathy. Being a secretary for a lawyer who did family law cases, this secretary had that sympathetic look down pat.

Melinda came in and sat at her desk. She didn't ask Patti anything at first. She just read the article in the _Port Charles Gazette._

"I think it must be that since Taryn is 18, she was able to handle it herself, legally," Melinda said. "Now as to how she ended up not telling you about it, that's another story."

Patti sighed. "It's Kevin. I bet she went to him to get help."

"That could be. Divorce gives the kids the chance to play one parent off the other like never before, and with teenagers, it's very common."

"The reason I came today," Patti said. "Last time Kevin came to pick the kids up for the weekend."

"He was late?" Melinda asked, looking sympathetic, "And it wrecked your plans for the evening?"

"He was late," Patti said. "Like he always is. But the thing was, it was his girlfriend's car! And she was driving it!"

"That's one of the worst things exes do," said Melinda. "It feels like they do it on purpose to hurt you."

"Yes," Patti said. "And my kids – I don't want them around her. I mean, I don't know her, but what I do know about her is that she was perfectly willing to date a married man. And sleep with a married man. So she can't be a good influence on my kids."

"I know," Melinda said.

"So can we amend the custody and visitation order to say that he can't have her in contact with my kids?"

"I'm afraid not."

Patti looked at Melinda in disbelief.

"The courts don't go in for more detail that just setting out the visitation times," Melinda explained. "If they got into this kind of detail, there would be too much to enforce. The courts are overbooked as it is. If they had to enforce this kind of thing too, they'd be overwhelmed, and that would slow up everything so much they couldn't do as much good." Melinda said all this in a practiced way, not missing a beat. Patti could tell, her heart falling, that Melinda had said this many times before. She'd given this very speech countless times to clients who had brought a similar request to the one Patti brought her now.

That awareness took away what hope Patti had been feeling when she'd come into the office. She looked at her untouched glass of ice water.

"It's OK," Melinda said. "Think of it this way. As long as you do and say nothing about it, he'll quit doing it. He's only doing it in the hope that you'll make a scene. And he can't say anything about whatever men you decide to date or see in the future."

Patti took a sip of water then. Her hand was shaking, so that she spilled a little bit of it onto Melinda's expensive desk.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Patti said.

"Oh, don't worry about that," Melinda said. "I know it's tough. But you'll get through it. I know it's hard to believe you will, but everyone always does. Time really does heal."

Patti nodded. The thought of dating some other man was so alien to her that it brought her no comfort that her rights were equal to Kevin's.

"You know what helps?" Melinda said. "Since the law can't. Going to a counselor. You're not crazy, but you're overwhelmed with events and counseling can really help."

Patti took another sip of water. "I think I'm all right," she said.

"You have good friends you can talk to?"

Patti thought. There wase her mother, but her mother tended to just start going on about how awful divorce was and how awful Kevin was and how the courts should do more to punish him. Her brother Paul was a psychiatrist, but Patti didn't want him to have to deal with her problems when he was off work. There was Paul's wife Elizabeth, but Elizabeth was young and in love and happily married. There was V. Ardanowski, a friend of Elizabeth's, who was becoming a friend to Patti, too. But V. was single and probably didn't understand a thing about all this.

"Not really," Patti said. "Not someone who has been through the same thing. At least, not that I'm close to."

"My sister is a counselor," Melinda said. "And a very good one, if I say so myself. I'll give you her card. You can think about it, and call her if you want to."

Melinda took the card from a holder on a table that sat behind her desk, along with the phone. It was interesting to see that Melinda easily produced this card. She had done that many times before, too.

"Thank you," Patti said. Inexplicably, tears came to her eyes. She grabbed a tissue from a box that sat right where a client could easily reach it. Patti realized how typical her case might be, and how many other people felt just like she did sitting just where she was. Maybe it was mean, but it made her feel a little better.


	16. The Russians are Coming

Tatiana was in an adventurous mood.

She got off Kelly's one evening and went downstairs and looked around. She could see her ex polishing glasses behind the bar.

Tatiana went to the bar and greeted him in Russian. He poured her a vodka without asking her for an order, feeling like some kind of spy meeting was going on.

"I'm going to the airport for Irina tomorrow," Mikhail told her.

"Can I go with you?" Tatiana sipped at the vodka absentmindedly.

"Yes, why not?"

"It is strange, you know," said Tatiana, "How you find being a bartender in America better than being an engineer in Russia."

"I can learn English and the more I learn, the better I can do," Mikhail said.

"Can't you do better in Russia, where you don't have to learn English?"

"Not as much so," Mikhail said.

Sergei Kanishchev came into the bar. Mikhail introduced his ex-wife to Sergei, who had once been his brother-in-law. So much divorce these days. Both Mikhail and his sister Oksana were divorced. His sister Yelena had a child out of wedlock. Only his brother Vadim was in a stable marriage, to Marina. Though Oksana was getting remarried now. Mikhail hoped that was going to succeed.

"So you are Irina's mother," Sergei said.

"Yes," Tatiana said, relishing the ease of conversing in Russian. Her English improved every day, or so she thought, but sometimes it got exhausting to be always trying to speak and understand a foreign language.

"She is a good skater," Sergei told her. "Very talented."

"Sergei is a coach, if you remember, Tatiana," Mikhail said. "His opinion counts for a lot."

"She could win medals," Sergei said. "In real competitions."

"Like her Aunt," Tatiana said. "Wonderful. And unlike Oksana, Irina can get them for Russia."

"Irina can skate for the United States when she becomes a citizen," said Mikhail.

"She will not skate for U.S." said Tatiana, feeling patriotic for the first time in her life. "But for Russia. She is born in Russia. Raised there. Only in US because of you and your damned green card."

Sergei looked like he was trying to hide his amusement.

"So you are working upstairs," Sergei said, conversationally, to Tatiana.

"Shhh," she said. "That is a secret."

"I know," Sergei whispered.

Mikhail just looked superior. He was legal.

"How do you get a work permit in this country?" Tatiana asked Sergei.

"Not easy," Sergei said. "The system does not make much sense. I do not think you can get one unless you are a big shot."

"Mikhail is no big shot," Tatiana said.

"Or have relatives," Sergei said. "That's what Mikhail had."

"Well, I have Irina," Tatiana said. "Surely they'd give me a work visa so I can be near my daughter."

"No," Mikhail said. "They will not. Not if your daughter is still a child. Besides, what about Ivan? Don't you want to go home to your husband?"

"I miss him," Tatiana admitted. "But when I am there, I miss Irina."

"She will go home with you," Mikhail said. "As you wanted."

"She will want to stay here," Tatiana said. "She always talks about it. She is excited, for the skating, thinks her aunt is the greatest thing, her aunt she never knew before, but when she is here, you fill her head with ideas, wanting her to want to stay here rather than go home to her mother."

"Really, Irina wants to stay here?" Mikhail said.

"Yes, which is your fault."

"How many times do I have to tell you it is a good opportunity?" Mikhail said. "For her. For Irina. And when she is grown up, she can get you a green card."

"That will be years from now! She is eleven years old!"

"She could visit you every single Christmas and summer," Mikhail said. "So long as she lives in the US, she can keep her green card and become a citizen."

"All very true," said Sergei.

Tatiana looked at Sergei as if to tell him he would be quiet if he valued his life.

"What's it to you?" Tatiana demanded to know. "Irina is only your ex-wife's niece."

"I tell you, she could make a champion pair skater," Sergei said. "She and my son Peter work well together."

"Are you just saying this to help him?" Tatiana retorted, pointing at Mikhail as if he were the devil himself.

"No, why would I do that?" Sergei said. "I only work with skaters I think will go somewhere big."

Tatiana wanted to argue that he could not prove he was such a hot shot in figure skating, but she wasn't sure. After all, he and Oksana had gotten themselves out of the USSR based on it.

"We'll see," was all she said.


	17. Patti and Taryn

Taryn got home early that evening. She'd spent the evening at the London Underground, listening to the band. Afterwards, she tried to talk to Toby, pointing out that she was still there supporting the band. He said thank you, but then didn't ask her to go anywhere else. Taryn was disappointed in him. She thought he should be more forgiving.

Taryn's mother Patti was up waiting for her.

"Oh, hi, mom," Taryn said.

"Taryn," her mother said. "How are you?"

"OK," Taryn said. "How are you, Mom?"

"Fair," Patti said, "Then it went to poor. I saw this in the paper. Why didn't you tell me about this?"

Patti handed the old _Port Charles Gazette_, which she had brought home from the law offices of Baldwin and Baldwin, to Taryn. It was the issue with the story about Taryn's plea bargain.

Taryn turned white. She dropped her backpack onto the floor, and sat down. "Oh, Mom," she said. "I didn't want you to worry about this."

"What happened?"

Taryn sat down, dejected. She told the whole story about how she had met with Alexis and worked the whole thing out.

"My goodness," was all Patti said.

"It turned out all right," Taryn said. "Don't be too mad at me, Mom."

"So your father didn't know anything about it either?"

"No."

Patti signed. "I'm not mad. I just wish you could have come to me with this problem."

"Oh, Mom," Taryn said. "I don't know what to say. Except I was not driving drunk. Clay can tell you. I was driving the car off the railroad tracks only."

"The railroad tracks!"

"It stalled on the railroad tracks."

"That car isn't safe. If only your father – oh, never mind," Patti felt tears welling up in her eyes.

"Mom!" Taryn got up and went over to hug Patti.

"I'm proud of you," Patti said, through her tears. "Really, I am. Most people are not really adults just because they turned 18. But you handled your problem all on your own like an adult."

Taryn was speechless. "Sorry, Mom. I shouldn't have been drinking like that. That's why Clay was driving me home. Then the car stalled, and I moved it off the railroad tracks, but I swear I was not going to drive it any further."

"That was a responsible thing to do, too," Patti said. "I'd rather you called me to come and get you, though. But you were right not to drive. I'll never give you any trouble about being drunk or having to come get you, so long as you don't drive."

Taryn smiled. "You too, Mom. I'll come to the London Underground or any other bar you hang out at to pick you up rather than have you driving drunk."

Patti smiled as she wiped a tear away. "Can you get along all right with your father's – girlfriend?" she asked. "It looks like we're stuck with her."

"I don't talk to her except the minimum," Taryn said. "She tries to be all friendly and stuff. But I don't care. Dad yelled at me a little at first. Now, I'm not even sure he's going to be seeing her forever. We may not be stuck with her. I don't think they get along that well, to tell you the truth. The whatever is wearing off."

"Really," Patti said. "I hope he doesn't put you through a bunch of them, though. I'd rather he stuck with just one than that he kept you having to get used to a new one."

"Makes no difference to me," Taryn said. "Maybe stability is better for Tony and Dasha. But stability would mean Dad just stayed."

Patti sighed.

"Sorry, Mom," Taryn said.

"It's OK, Taryn," Patti said. "Don't feel like there is anything you can't tell me. I'm stronger than I seem, sometimes."

"You're very strong," Taryn said. "It's not that."

"Promise you will let me help if you get in trouble again."

"I'm not going to get in trouble again," Taryn said. "But I'll tell you what's happening. Like Toby being such a baby about how I was dating Clay. We weren't engaged, for heaven's sake. Why are men so impossible? They all have different rules, but they expect you to know what theirs are."

Patti laughed. "That's true," she said. "It would only be fair if they would hand us a copy of their rules at the beginning."

Taryn laughed. "You have that date for the wedding," she said. "What are his rules?"

"I don't know, I'm just a warm body to have a date to the wedding," Patti said. "I'm sure the rules for that are minimal."

"You never know. You'll get to talk at the wedding. Maybe he'll turn out to be a nice guy."

"Maybe. But I don't think I'm up for dating just yet. Dancing, maybe. Being someone's stand in when they need a date for an event. But real dating, no."

"Oh, Mom. You have to plunge in. I know Dad wrecked your faith and all that- "

"Taryn, honey, it's your faith I'm worried about."

"Mine? Why, I won't trust men because Dad walked out on you?"

"Maybe. It could affect you that way."

"I never even thought of it. I'd have blamed Jeremy – or my experience with Jeremy – if I didn't trust them."

"Jeremy's a teenager," Patti said. "Your father's example is much worse."

"Yes, when you've been married so long and it can still happen – makes you wonder if anybody should bother."

"That's what I mean. You can't lose your belief that it's going to work out for you and some wonderful young man some day."

"Well, neither can you, Mom."

"Let's not worry about me," Patti said. "I had my day in the sun. I have children to raise."

"But you need a life, too, Mom. I hope this guy's nice. That young guy who brought you home on the motorcycle was nice, too. Very cute."

"Too young for me."

"If Dad can do it, you can."

"I don't think I'd do a thing like that," Patti said. "I'm not supposed to try to get you to think ill of your father. So I can't say what I think of this May-December relationship of his."

"I know you don't like it, Mom. I don't either, really."

"I just don't do those sorts of things."

"Maybe it is wrong in Dad's case, but it might not be in yours. Keep an open mind."

"OK," Patti laughed. Her 18 year old daughter was giving her advice. "I'll keep an open mind."


	18. Jax and Oksana's Wedding

It was the day of Jasper Jax's wedding to Oksana Kanishcheva. The wedding was going to be in the garden of Oksana's house.

Alexis arrived, very pregnant, but still the maid of honor. She made jokes about how it was good luck to have a pregnant maid of honor.

"Just in case the baby comes during the wedding and the maid of honor has to leave," Jerry, her husband, the father of the baby, said, "is that even better luck?"

"That's really good luck, I'm sure," Jax said, grinning from ear to ear.

"He's so completely happy," Jerry observed to Alexis, as they watched Jax walking over to his future mother-in-law and helping her with a corsage.

They turned to see Mikhail come in with Tatiana and Irina.

"Oh, hello," Alexis said.

"Mom and Dad are on a date," Irina said, proudly.

"Aren't you a married woman?" Alexis asked Tatiana.

"I just bring her here so she can come," Mikhail said, indicating Tatiana with a nod of the head towards her. "She can get to know everybody. She is my date, sort of. But only for this."

Irina giggled, though. She thought it was cool that her parents were together, and with her. She'd hadn't had that for a long time.

Karl and Beth Delaney came with their six children. All together and dressed up, the five girls and their brother Liam looked adorable.

Kara was nervous. She'd had help from three different employees of Deception, Inc. Her make up was perfect, her clothes were the latest fashion, tailored and chosen just for her, and she wore big hoop earrings, and her short hair was styled like a model's. But she still felt sort of naked with such short hair.

Looking in the mirror, she had not particularly liked the way she looked, but could see that she was supposed to look good. It was a matter of taste. She had never been impressed whenever she saw models with very short hair in magazines.

But her mother raved about it and said she should always wear it that way. "It shows off your beautiful face," Beth had said.

Kara didn't feel like she had such a beautiful face to show off. She intended to keep growing her hair.

It still made her nervous to think of Peter's reaction. She knew Peter loved her for herself, not her hair, as her mother had stated to her already a few times. Still, it bugged her. Peter was so cute. She already felt like something of a mismatch to him. Before she'd had her head shaved for a brain tumor operation and then had radiation and lost her hair.

"You look great, Kara," Quinn was there, and greeted her with that. Zander, right behind her, echoed the sentiment.

"Very jazzy looking haircut," Zander said.

"Thanks," Kara said, with a little uncertainty.

"You really do look sophisticated," Quinn said, patting her on the arm.

Kara smiled in gratitude. At least everyone tried to make her feel better. It made her feel guilty that though she did feel better, it didn't last that long.

Jax was in the study with his brother and his father. "I can't believe both of you will be married, and in the same year," John Jacks said. "You both waited so long, and now both almost at once."

"And a grandchild on the way," Jerry said.

"And two new step-grandsons," Jax said.

His father patted him on the back. "Yes, that's so," he said. "We won't forget them."

AJ Quartermaine came with his girlfriend Joanna and their three combined kids. AJ worked for Jax Corporation now, but Oksana had remembered to invite them too, as they were friends of Zander and Quinn.

Peter came down the stairs, taking them two at a time.

"Hey, Q!" he said, seeing his sister-in-law standing at the bottom of the stairs, talking to Jane Jacks. "Hi, Mrs. Jacks," he added.

"Hi, Pete!" Quinn said. "Kara and her family came in. They're in there," she pointed towards the living room.

"Thanks, Q.," Peter smiled and ran off.

"He's such a doll," Jane said to Quinn. "He has to be able to call me something else. Maybe Granny Jane, how's that?"

"That's nice," Quinn said. "If it's OK with Sergei, I guess. Peter and Zander's other grandmother was someone they never knew. She disappeared in that era they called the Terror. In the Soviet Union, when they rounded people up."

"My goodness," Jane said. "Sergei lost his mother that way?"

"His whole family, he never even knew them," Quinn said.

"Poor man," Jane said. "So all he has are his own children?"

"Yes."

"Then for sure I'll ask him first before I play second grandmother."

"I think he will like that," Quinn said.

"Kara," Peter said, looking at her. "Wow, you look – amazing."

Beth stood next to Kara, smiling.

Kara shrugged. "It's OK, I guess."

Peter laughed and hugged her. "You look like you belong working at Deception with Gia What's-Her-Name and the other models."

"She does, doesn't she, Peter?" Beth said, beaming.

Kara looked doubtful, but smiled, holding Peter's hand.

Everyone was sitting down, and Lisa ran around making last minute adjustments; her aunt Rosa and her sister Diana trying to help her. Lucky Spencer was setting up cameras and tripods, while Tim Connor and Joe Quinn directed people into the garden and to the chairs.

The Cassidine family was there, too, made up of Alexis' two brothers and her nephew and his wife, who worked at Deception, too.

Irina was a bridesmaid, and Brad Connor escorted her down the aisle. Everyone murmured that they were adorable.

Then Alexis came down the aisle and everyone laughed. Alexis smiled.

"At least it's not the bride," Matt said to V. Ardanowski, his date. V. grinned. Turning her head back, she saw Rick Friel sitting with Amy and Amanda and Jackson Delaney. Next to Rick, to V's surprise, sat Patti Polk.

Oksana stood at the end of the aisle then, with her father. Everyone stood up, staring at her in admiration.

She looked very young in a lacy white dress. She managed to pull off the young bride look, with her long, thick black hair flowing over her shoulders, the look she'd wanted, since this was her husband's wedding, the only one he'd get. As she stood there, it felt like her first marriage, too, in a way. It was the first time she'd worn a dress like this and had her father to walk her down the aisle and been surrounded by family and friends.

Jax did not take his eyes off of her as she walked towards him. She was so lovely, his breath caught in his throat. Her big, dark eyes were fixed on his, then. All of the guests and even her father faded, he felt like they were alone.

The justice of the peace then went through the simple ceremony, very civil and slim on religion, as the Jacks' weren't all that religious and Oksana had been raised in the USSR and didn't know much about all that. Jax didn't remember a word of it, he could only remember Oksana's eyes and her dark hair and her smile. Finally, it seemed like forever, and he was kissing her and they walked down the aisle.

They had the reception there on the grounds, with a big dance floor set up outside. Jax had a vague memory of Jerry toasting.

Oksana's head was spinning. She sipped a little champagne but was wary of drinking any more. She felt intoxicated already. Beside her sat the most charming husband in the world, blue eyes, golden hair, an incredible man, really. It was all a first for her, as her previous marriage just was so long ago and so incredibly grey and dull in comparison.

But then there were her two sons, so handsome, and Jax being so wonderful with them, and accepting their congratulations and teasing them that now they would have to behave for their mother, or else.

When it was time to through the bouquet, the single girls were rounded up. Amy and Amanda, Irina and Kara, Kara's little sisters, and Diana and Lisa, dragging a demurring Rosa with them, V. and Patti, Joanna and Cheryl stood in a giggling group.

Oksana threw the flowers. They landed right on V. Ardanowksi, as if radar had taken them right to her.

"Hey!" Alexis said, in mock protest. "V. caught mine, too!"

"And she's _still _not married," Jax said.

"I told you then and I tell you now, it doesn't work," V. joked.

"Maybe you're getting married twice," Patti said, wryly.

"Bigamy or serially?" V. asked. Everyone laughed.

Jax threw the garter. As usual, the men tried to pretend they did not want to catch it. Rick Friel was looking at them and laughing at this when it landed right on him.

"Don't worry," V. Ardanowski was right there, telling him. "It doesn't work."

"Doesn't work on you, Venus," Jax said. V. hit him with the bouquet. Jax laughed and said, "You now will dance with the garter-catcher, as custom dictates."

"Yes," V. said. "As I have done many a time before."

V. turned to Rick. He hesitated a second before taking her into his arms.

"So he used the forbidden name," Rick said. "Does he get away with it because it's his wedding day?"

"He always gets away with it," V. said. "I don't know how. How did you know it's the name and forbidden?"

"Someone told me, somewhere. At school."

"School?"

"Yes, in Matt Delaney's class."

"Matt doesn't know!"

"It was another one of the parents. Oh, what is her name? Maxie Jones' mother."

"Oh, that's Felicia," V. said.

"Felicia, right," Rick said. "How did she find out?"

"She's a private detective," V. said. "I think she investigated me once because Jax wanted me checked out. It was before he and I were friends, don't worry, he's not crazy."

"I've worked for his company for years."

"Oh, so it's too late for me to protect his reputation. You already know he's crazy."

"Yes," Rick laughed. "I know that. I'm sure he had me checked out. Now that you tell me this, maybe it was Felicia. I think I must have checked out OK. She lets Maxie hang out with Amy."

"May I have this dance, in lieu of our mutual dates?" Matt asked Patti.

"Sure," Patti said, following him out onto the dance floor. In spite of herself, she felt a thrill of excitement.

"How did you end up here?" Matt asked her.

"At London Underground, a friend said a friend needed a date. I already fixed you and V. up for this wedding. I figured it was just my destiny. But by then, I couldn't think of anyone better than myself."

"Found a way to get into this wedding, eh?"

She smiled. "I hadn't really thought of it that way, but if I had, it would have been kind of clever, wouldn't it?"

"Very clever. But your matchmaking stinks."

"Huh?"

"Well, you've got you with Rick and me with V. Yet look at the two of them. Kind of – I think they are more into each other than us."

Patti looked off at them. "Yes," she mused. "They do look kind of happy."

"He's into her," Matt said. "As a man, I can tell."

Patti looked up at him and smiled. "How can you tell?"

"Oh, the look, the way he looks a little nervous," Matt said.

"You don't look nervous."

"Well, I am," he said, looking straight at her.

She stared at him.

"I'm good at hiding it," he explained.

"I'm – way too old for you."

"What's too old?"

"I don't know – I mean, I have a teenager."

"I have one hundred and fifty teenagers."

She relaxed and little, and smiled. "It's not the same thing," she said.

"It may be quantity over quality, but it's roughly equal," he asserted. He looked over and caught a sight of Amy Friel. "Little monsters," he added.

Patti laughed when the way he said that struck her funny bone. "Yes, that they are," she agreed. "But you'll want some of your own some day."

"Only one, at most," he said.

"Really?"

"Yes, I come from a family of nine."

"Oh, I see, but didn't you like it?"

"I liked it for me, but it has certain disadvantages," he said. "As you can imagine."

"Yes, I think your mother must be a very strong woman," Patti said.

"A saint," Matt declared.

"Your father, too," Patti said.

"He's a good guy," Matt said. "We just – it means you spend more time with each other than your parents. Which is OK. But you have peers at school."

"So where do you fall, in the family order?" Patti asked. "I know of Clay, and Branwyn."

"The two youngest," he said. "I'm sixth. There is Hugh between me and Clay. My brother Jackson, number two, is here also. He came with Amanda Friel."

"Oh, Rick's daughter," Patti said.

"See, a family so big, you can run into your brother at a wedding."

"That's nice," Patti said, grinning. "I think he brought Taryn home one night, too."

"We Delaneys specialize in driving women home," he said, with a mischievous grin. "In fact, I would like to drive you home, tonight."

Patti felt her stomach churning. It was flattering attention. But she hesitated. "I'm just getting through a divorce," she said.

"All the more reason to have a little fun."

"We've got other dates."

"Our dates look perfectly content," he said.

"But it would still be absurdly rude."

"OK, but he's going to take you home, and presumably, just get a handshake at the door."

"And you know this how?"

He just grinned and pulled her tighter.

"Then, when you get home, there's no rule saying you can't go out again," he added, temptingly.

"Funny, Taryn and I were talking about men and their rules," Patti said. "How each one has his own and expects them to be followed. So if you go out on a date and take her home early, she can go out again, right?"

"Oh yes," he said. "That's rule number forty-eight."

"Oh, no," Patti groaned, mockingly. "There's that many?"

"Oh, there are millions," he said. "But you are welcome to break them all."

She smiled and flushed. She felt silly, like a teenager.

"Meet me at the London Underground," he said. "For another dance. Later tonight."

He walked off without waiting for an answer.

Patti stood there, shaking a little. Someone started saying they could form a line to dance with the groom. Patti went to the line, feeling safer in the structure the custom brought.

V. was behind her a few minutes later. Patti smiled, seeing her. "I fixed up another date for this wedding," she said. "Duane Edwards was in the London Underground with Rick and told me he needed a date for this same wedding, and I told them how I got you one, and one thing led to another and I was to find one for Rick and then I just volunteered myself."

"So I see," V. said, pleasantly. "Good job."

"So it's going OK for you and Matt?" Patti thought she'd pretend she was interested in following up on her own matchmaking ability.

"Sure, he's a nice guy," V. said. "Like you said, a little young, but fun."

Patti swallowed hard. She felt way older than V. just at that moment. The idea of meeting Matt later seemed silly.

She looked over at him. He was talking to Oksana's son.

Matt saw Patti looking at him out of the corner of his eye. "So you want to spend the rest of your life teaching the little monsters," he said to Zander. Amanda had introduced them and told Matt that Zander was getting his degree in education and working on becoming a teacher and that Matt already was a teacher, of history, at Port Charles High. "You're crazy. Or you will be when you've been at it a few years."

"Yeah," Zander said, smiling at the adjective. "I get to student teach in the fall."

"High school?"

"Yeah, I think high school is where I want to end up. So do you like it?"

"Yes," Matt said. "They drive you nuts, but then there's that every once in a while when you realize you did get through to one of the little monsters and he or she learned something and that makes it all worthwhile. I know it sounds like a corny movie, but it's true."

Zander smiled. "How do they drive you crazy?"

"Everything you can think of. Not showing for class. Not doing the homework. Doing the homework but not taking it very seriously. Talking in class. Getting up in class. Having obnoxious parents. Not giving a damn about their future. Worrying too much about their future, worrying more about grades than about learning something. Spending too much time on sports. Spending too much time on other stuff."

"Yeah," Zander said, remembering going to high school and selling drugs to high school students. "I had some bad years then. I'm hoping that will help me be understanding."

"You'll need a lot of that," Matt said. "And patience. That's the biggest thing. Patience, patience, patience."

"Now Matt," Amanda said, coming in and hearing the last bit. "Let's no overdo it."

"I don't think he scares off easily," Matt said, grinning at Zander.

"No," Zander said. "I don't."

Amy got in line behind V. "This is a dollar dance, right? I need a dollar to dance with the groom."

"Since he's a gazillionaire," V. said. "I doubt he's taking money."

Amy agreed. "Yeah, I'm not going to pay him. But hey, are you still going to show me the ropes of being a detective one day?"

"Yes, of course," V. answered. "Let's set it up for next week."

"I'd like that," Amy said.

Patti relaxed a bit, seeing as that was in line with the idea of switching the dates she had set up.

But that was crazy.

Her matchmaking did not stink, she thought. V. might be a little older than Matt. But Rick was age-appropriate to Patti, whereas Matt was not. Yet, crazily, Matt caused her stomach to take leaps while Rick was just another guy.

What a lot of confidence Matt had for someone that young. Maybe it was from dealing with teens all day. It had to take a lot of confidence to deal with them in groups of thirty or so at once, and try to teach them something to boot.

Amy and V. had gotten to talking by this time, and it was Patti's turn to dance with the groom.

"Hi, I'm Patti," she said to him as he swept her off. "I came to your wedding as the date of Rick Friel."

"Oh, I'm glad you could make it. Rick is a long time loyal employee."

That sounded dull, for some reason. Patti knew it was silly. She was a long time loyal employee herself. Why did teaching seem so interesting and exciting all of a sudden? Patti had known many teachers over the years, what with having three children. Teachers weren't interesting.

Or maybe they weren't as a group. But one was.


	19. An Evening Out

Patti felt foolish. But she had driven to the London Underground. She wondered if perhaps Matt Delaney was not going to show up.

She had indeed shook Rick Friel's hand at the door, and he had looked grateful, at least to Patti's imagination. She'd wanted to tell him she was giving her total and full blessing to whatever feelings he had for V. Ardanowski. But that seemed a little too presumptuous, so she didn't say anything.

She wondered how Matt had said goodbye to V., or indeed, if he had. Maybe he had not been serious. That was what had Patti feeling foolish. Suppose he did not show up, and she was just an idiot for doing so?

She was in these musings when she felt a hand on her arm.

"Here you are," said Matt Delaney.

Patti looked up at him, relieved.

"I wasn't sure you would show up," he said.

"I felt the same," she said, honestly.

He smiled, and took her arm. "Dance?" he asked.

Laraine and Gia were sitting at Luke's Bar, having a drink. Gia had wanted to get off the Island for a while, and called Laraine Breyer, who was a co-worker at Deception Co. who Gia often talked with.

"I'm surprised you don't have a date," Gia said. Gia was married, to Nik Cassidine, but Laraine was single, and so, when they had conversations, Laraine's love life figured prominently in them.

"I'm going to quit dating for a while," Laraine declared. "Perhaps forever."

Gia smiled the smile of the happily married upon hearing such an affirmation. "You must have had a bad experience lately," she said.

"I'm tired of hearing the same old thing. Being played the same old way."

"It's getting boring," Gia commiserated.

"Yes. How did you meet your prince? Did you know right away? Or did he seem the same at first?"

"I wouldn't have said I knew right away then, but looking back, there was something. Some extra notice I took. It was the situation. We both thought we rented the same house and settled it by both living there."

"See, so it wasn't a date."

"Are you thinking dating might be useless? Because you could meet Mr. Right that way."

"But then maybe I don't meet Mr. Right for trying."

"I see what you mean. I've heard that logic before. Quit looking and he will appear."

"Exactly right. Dating – they all seem the same. And none of them are ever into me, either. Hurts my self esteem. I guess theirs too."

"So just do what you'd normally do and meet who you normally meet."

"Yeah. I play tennis. I'll play more."

"The country club is a good place to look."

Laraine grinned. "I guess so. But remember, I'm not looking. Just playing tennis. Not on some mission. Whoever's here is here. It's fate. Or just sitting here with you and Luke."

Gia smiled. "OK, you could strike up a big romance with Luke if he wasn't married."

"Luke'll see me. He'll know me better. Maybe he'll know a guy. Just a chance among others."

"I'm going to invite you for dinner. You'll be around my father and uncle in law. They're both too old for you, but they'll know you. Sometimes they have assistants. Even if they're girls, they might be girls you could go out on the town with."

"Or they might have brothers," Laraine said. "My brothers for example, are two really great guys. If you were single, I'd introduce you to Chad."

"Hey, doesn't Chad have friends? Or Toby?"

"I try to avoid that, in case it doesn't work out. With Chad's. Toby's are young."

"But if one of Chad's friends gave you that feeling, that rush, what would you do?"

"It depends. Chad's very best friends are more like brothers, but I guess any new friend could be less important to him than my chances of true love." Laraine rolled her eyes. "But he'd be just another average American guy. The same old."

"Hmm, so you're thinking more exotic. Like what? A foreigner?"

"Yeah, maybe a dark and wild eyed Italian."

Gia giggled. "Maybe I could dig up a Greek for you."

Back at London Underground, Ned Ashton was playing. A few people danced. One couple looked a little off, like the woman was a bit older than the man.

Allison and Glen were listening to him. They liked to check out the competition. Allison's daughter Yvonne was the lead singer of a grunge band, called "The Dissenters." Tonight they had a gig in Buffalo.

"This is so different, it's not like it really is competition," Glen said.

"Draws a different audience, sure," Allison said. "The older one. I really like his acoustic style."

"More like yours," Glen observed.

During a break, Glen said, "Go and talk to him and see how he got the gig."

Allison went up to Ned, who was starting to change a guitar string. "That's always a fun job," Allison said.

Ned smiled at her.

"Really nice set," Allison said.

"Thank you," Ned said. "You play yourself?"

"A little. I taught my daughter. And paid the price. Now she has a grunge band."

Ned laughed. "You got what you deserved," he said. "Have you ever played?"

"In college, I had a couple of gigs, but I've never made much of it," she said. "My style is a lot like yours, so you probably are near my age, and you know our kind of thing is nostalgic. Very sixties or seventies."

"Yeah," Ned said. "You sing?"

"Yes, I tried teaching my daughter that, too, but she just screeches."

"I bet she does. Look at my song list, see if you know the harmony to any of them," he said.

"Really?" Allison said.

"Yeah, I've wanted a female harmony, but I can't convince my young cousin to be seen in public with me, and my older cousin doesn't sing, and the local DA, though she sings, never has time to rehearse."

Allison looked at the list of songs, intrigued. "I could do that one, and that one," she said. "Easily."

"OK, I'll call you up here. What did you say your name was?"

She told him.

When she got back to the table, she was excited. "I got a back-up gig," she said to Glen, eyes shining.

"Wow," Glen said. "See, it never hurts to schmooze."

When Allison went up to harmonize with Ned, Glen listened with pride. Allison could sing beautifully, and he had always been rather proud of it. She just never had the opportunity to show it off.

And she was way better than Yvonne, in Glen's opinion.

In Buffalo, at a club called "Pier 19," the Yvonne and her band, the Dissenters, were playing.

Duane and Sarah were in the audience listening.

Sarah felt really good about this particular date. It was to see Yvonne, after all. Sarah felt a little nervous. At some point, there would be a break, and Yvonne would know Duane had brought her. She felt sure Yvonne would be fine with it. But she wanted to be sure.

Duane was always a little shy about anyone knowing they were together. His friend Rick Friel hadn't helped, with some of his comments when he'd seen them out at the symphony by accident. Sarah understood, but it was a little nerve wracking on the one hand, but on the other, it was the best and most satisfying relationship she'd ever had so far. Part of it was that there were better and clearer markers that it made progress.

Like this one. Going somewhere with Yvonne knowing he'd brought her meant progress. It meant he was willing to show her off a little. Or at least, that he wasn't so embarrassed at dating her when she was twenty years younger.

Somehow, Sarah wanted him to have that, not just for her, but so he'd feel better. She liked it when people gave him a second look because he was with her. Her mother thought that was kind of her, and said someday he'd forget all about the age difference and just want to be with her.

Sarah had finally told her parents, Jeff and Jennifer Webber, just who her new boyfriend was. They had known he was older, and it wasn't a real big surprise, except for the fact they already knew him, since they had gone out and hired him. Jennifer liked the idea she had found Sarah and lawyer and a man at the same time, and joked about it, pretending she had done it on purpose.

Sarah hadn't told Duane her parents knew, though. It was a little omission, but her parents were good for covering her. She always knew that.

Backstage, Yvonne thanked her for coming. "I figure you may not normally like this kind of music."

"Neither do I," Duane said.

"Yeah, yeah," Yvonne said, grinning.

"It's fun seeing someone you know onstage," Sarah said. "But I do like your music. Really. I might not have learned to without knowing you personally. But having that chance, I can tell you're doing something interesting."

Yvonne beamed. Duane thought how smart Sarah was. She had picked right up on how you get Yvonne on your side. Make Yvonne think her music was something important, and you were in good with her.

Later that night, lying in bed with him, Sarah said, "I'm happy you asked me to go see the band. Taking to Yvonne is all a little more public."

"I'm not really so jumpy about that anymore," he said, hugging her. He kissed her lips. He felt guilty. She was really so good to him. So patient and understanding. She was so smart. It began to dawn on him that she might be right for him, and he for her, in spite of their age difference.

"You know," he said. "I always end up going to the Nurse's Ball at the Hospital, and it is coming up again."

"Yeah," she said. "I know that event very well. My parents will sure go, for the first time in years. And Elizabeth and Paul."

That stopped him for a second. Then he took a deep breath. Oh, hell with it, he thought. "So you're a doctor there. Surely you'll go. I was thinking of asking you if you'd go with me. If you want to. But if you don't, with your whole family there, I understand."

"Don't be ridiculous, Duane," she said. She leaned up on her elbow and stroked his face. "I'd love to go with you. You know that."

He pulled her down and kissed her.

"My parents understand," Sarah said. "We don't have to hang out with them. Maybe I'll just introduce you to them and you can just say hi and that's a start?"

"OK," he said, somewhat overwhelmed. He caught his breath. "What about Elizabeth?"

Sarah laughed and took a pillow as if she might hit him with it. "Elizabeth should be happy, right?"

"I don't know if she'll be happy. But she won't have on me any more not taking you out in public."

"That'll calm her down," Sarah laughed. She lay back against him. She sighed. "I'm really happy," she said. "Never thought a girl could be so happy about having a date to the Nurse's Ball."

"So now I take you home," Matt said to Patti, as they left the London Underground bar.

"My car is here," she protested.

"That heap should never be driven at night," Matt said. "My brother and I can bring it back for you in the morning."

"I can't ask you to do that," she said.

"It's no bother," he said. "Wouldn't you rather ride home on the back of my motorcycle?" He had a mischeivous look in his eyes.

She thought about it. She had loved it the last time. It was something fun, something someone her age didn't normally get to do. A little reliving of youth.

"OK," she said. "This one time."

"This one time," he said, cheerfully.

He walked her all the way to the door. "I'll call you in the morning about the car," he said.

"Thank you," Patti said.

He stepped toward her. She felt a moment of mild panic. She felt like she was on some other planet looking down as he pulled her to him and kissed her.

She gave into it, thinking to heck with it, tonight was about reliving her youth. His lips were hot and urgent and his hand on the back of her head was all that made her feel like she was still standing upright.

He walked off then, and got on the motorcycle and drove off, without saying anything more, as if he knew that if he hung around she might say something to try to undermine the experience of kissing her.


	20. The Next Day

Glen was excited for Allison. Now she was even having rehearsals with Ned Ashton and his back-up musicians.

They had rehearsed in the boathouse to the Quartermaine Mansion. Allison promised Ned she'd observe all she could. Glen was a real estate agent, and he was always curious about the upper end properties and how much they might be worth, even if they weren't for sale at the moment.

"This is great, going to London Underground to hear you," Glen said. He almost added "instead of Yvonne," but decided that it was better to avoid that direct comparison. He could appreciate the musical talents of both women with equal enthusiasm and get into no trouble.

Jin-ho Nu, who was known as Jimmy Nu, had a job driving a truck and making deliveries. It got him around Port Charles and Buffalo. He had experience in this field in Maine, along with truck and auto repair. Now that Joe Quinn was helping him with his mother, Jimmy thought it right that he move down to Port Charles again. He knew his way around, remembering from when he'd been a teenager and Joe had been his stepfather. Those had been the best years of his life. He'd always had Joe to go around with. He'd had trouble making friends, because of his English.

Even now, after so many years, he had trouble with the language. He could understand it. He could speak it too, and say whatever he wanted to say. It was just so hard to make it come out right. Americans had a hard time understanding him. So he said only what he absolutely needed to.

Now that he was down here in Port Charles there were the Connors, who had always encouraged him with his English. Kathleen was a teacher, and she'd spent time with him before. He'd always be grateful to her.

Now her son-in-law wanted to be a teacher and was big on helping people learn English, with his family from Russia coming over. Jimmy explained to Zander, the son-in-law, that he knew the language but that his tongue and his lips were the problem. It sounded all right in his head, but it came out too heavily accented. The fact he knew it caused him to think he could speak faster. He just had to remember to slow down.

Still, Zander said he would work on finding out what speech exercises might help. When he didn't find much, he tried to get Jimmy to tell him about the Korean language, and what sounds a Korean didn't have in his native speech. He had Jimmy read him pages of books to stop and concentrate on just what sounds weren't coming out right.

Jimmy smiled at the way Zander worked with his relatives, sitting in for a while. Zander's eleven-year-old cousin Irina soaked up English like a sponge. Kids always had an advantage when it came to that. Jimmy had been young when he came, but not that young, and apparently just old enough to be a little hardened. The adult mind seemed to freeze at a certain point, and Zander's poor grandparents had such a hard time, but they tried for their grandson's enthusiasm just made it impossible to resist. They made little, but steady progress.

Then there was Zander's uncle, Mikhail, Irina's father, who was in between young and old, but whose determination to learn English went a long way.

Jimmy also could see that Zander's relatives had some advantage in being Russian. It was easier to go from Russian to English than Korean to English. The Russians spoke English with an accent, but Jimmy could understand them. They couldn't understand Jimmy except in the most basic sentences.

But they understood what he was struggling with a lot. They were always friendly. Even the old people, who could barely say more than "hi," to Jimmy, always said it when they saw him and had a look of empathy when they said it.

On the job, Jimmy made a delivery of office supplies to Deception Company.

Laraine Breyer came out to sign for them and supervise where they were going.

"You want this on that table?" he asked her.

"What did you say?" the girl asked.

He said the same thing again, slower.

"Oh, that table. Yes," she said.

She smiled and he thought she was nice about it. Many people weren't. "Sorry," he said. "My English."

He went back and forth, following her directions, bringing in computers and computer desks and chairs and printers and a couple of modems. Then there was quite a bit of paper and printing supplies. She was rather considerate, and brought him a bottle of water when he'd been at it awhile.

"Take a break, you look hot," she said.

"It is getting very warm," he said. He saw that she didn't understand him, so he repeated it against, more slowly. She smiled again and nodded.

Laraine had a moment of embarrassment; she'd told him he looked hot. He might think she was flirting with him.

But as she looked at him, she could see he didn't. To him, "hot" was just high ambient temperature.

It was a relief.

"I've been thinking," Laraine said to Gia, later, talking by the copy machine, "I met this Asian guy. He was delivering our supplies."

"Oh great," Gia rolled her eyes, "your exotic guy."

"I don't know," Laraine said. "He could be married. But he was sweet and you know, he didn't speak English well. And would you believe it makes for better communication? Words aren't so loaded. You only say what you need to say."

"Oh, this is going to be interesting," said Gia.

"It's like he can't mess with your head because of it, so he doesn't, so it brings out the genuine sweet side," Laraine explained.

"I could see that, but then it could be a drag not to be able to get things across."

"That could be."

"But you don't know for sure, and it's worth checking out," Gia suggested.

"I suppose it is worth checking out," Laraine said, as if "checking out" had quotes around it. "Why not? It would be more interesting than the same old, same old."

Gia smiled and shook her head. "I can't wait to see what you get yourself into," she laughed.

"How is it that we have the old car and Dad has the new one?' Taryn asked Patti one morning.

"It's part of the compromise that allows us to stay in the house," Patti said.

"Why should we have had to move out of the house because Dad wants to have an affair?"

"Because two households are more expensive to keep running than one," Patti said. "And my earnings don't allow for me to pay for a house like this on my own. Even without child support. Which we lose, for you, when you graduate."

"Geez, I never thought about that, Mom," Taryn said. "I should get a job."

"We can manage you going to college," Patti said. "And we will. Your father wants you to go. And you'll just be going to PCU, and the tuition there isn't too expensive. Your future is not going to suffer because your father wanted to have an affair."

"OK, but still, a part time job wouldn't get in the way that much," Taryn said. "And I could work over the summer. Then maybe we could get a newer car."

Patti went over and hugged her daughter. "This is so much responsibility on you right now, and you're being a real trooper about it," she said.

"It's not bad, Mom," Taryn said. "It feels sort of good. Something to do, so I quit thinking about my hopeless love life. I had two guys and now I have none."

"Toby's not getting over it?"

"Nothing works so far. And I thought I'd decide who was taking me to the prom, Toby or Clay, and now I have no one."

"Fortunately, you can go stag these days," Patti said. "Get together with a couple of girls and you just all go together."

"That's sounding actually like more fun that I thought it might have," Taryn said. "Back in the days when I was thinking of course I'd be going with Jeremy, I'd have died to think I'd be stuck going stag with a few girls. But now, it really sounds more fun that way."

"I'm glad," Patti said. "And it's no big deal. Just have fun."

"Be free of guy problems for a while."

"Watch out, Taryn, don't let your father-"

"I know," Taryn said. "Don't let Dad's affair get me bitter about men. I'll try."

"You deserve the best," Patti said. "He's out there."

"So do you. Though I know you don't want to hear it. How was that date to the wedding?"

"OK, I guess," Patti said. "I talked to quite a few people there, actually."

"Who was the guy who brought your car home? He was cute."

"The guy I met at London Underground, who I fixed up with V. for the wedding," Patti said. "Matt Delaney."

"Did V. like him all right?"

"I think so."

"I know she's a little older than he, but she's pretty cool," Taryn said. "For a cop."

Patti just smiled. "We'll see how it works out," was all she said.


	21. Taryn's Exposers

Taryn thought first of London Underground and Kelly's for finding a job. They had just hired someone at Kelly's, but London Underground looked more promising. Taryn talked to Skye Quartermaine, who said she would talk to Sergei Kanishchev.

Taryn hung out for awhile, chatting with Mikhail the bartender, wondering if and when Clay would come in, without working up the nerve to just ask Mikhail.

The bar got busier. Taryn watched Mikhail work as she had Clay before. She had liked doing that. She had asked Skye about waitressing, but wondered if she could learn to be a bartender. Being 18 was wonderful. It opened up so many new possibilities.

Chad Breyer came up to the bar to make an order. A couple of seconds later, Mary Ellen Delaney came to the bar and stood next to Chad, not knowing him, just another customer who happened to be next to him.

But to Taryn, the appearance of these two people in one place had significance.

Impulsively, she went over to them. "Well, if it isn't the Morality Police," she said. "Are you partners now? Where's your squad car?"

"So Toby hasn't called you, eh, Taryn?" Chad said.

Maryellen looked confused. She looked at Chad for the first time. He seemed to know what Taryn was talking about.

Then the name struck Maryellen. "Oh, you're the girl who moved the car off the railroad tracks while under the influence."

"Yeah," Taryn said. "Thanks for covering that in the newspapers. It was a real important event everybody has to know about."

Maryellen shrugged. "For the _Port Charles Gazette_, it's big enough."

Taryn shrugged, too. "Wow, your career is really big time," she said, and walked away.

Maryellen looked at Chad again. "What was that all about?" she asked him.

"Taryn was dating two guys, one of them was my brother Toby. I happened to catch her instead of Toby. I told Toby. What did you do?"

Maryellen smiled. "I'm a reporter, and I did a story for the Port Charles Gazette. Two stories, actually. In the second one, I put her name, because she was over 18."

"So that's why we're the morality police. Well, partner, let me buy you a drink."

"Sure," Maryellen said. "My name is Mary Ellen Delaney, by the way."

"Mine is Chad Breyer," Chad said. "Are you here with anybody?"

"My sisters," Maryellen said. "You?"

"I'm here on my own to hear the band. My brother Toby is the guitarist."

"Sit with us for awhile."

"Thanks," he said, taking the drinks from Mikhail.

Mary Ellen introduced Chad to her sisters Colleen and Melinda. "Taryn Polk just yelled at both of us," she explained. "It seems we both exposed her, separately."

"How is that?" Colleen asked.

"I wrote about her little escapade in the paper, remember?" Mary Ellen said.

"And I told my brother I saw her kissing someone else," Chad said. "She was dating my brother."

"Oh, wait," Mary Ellen said. "The other guy she was dating is our brother."

"Your brother? Clay the bartender is your brother?"

"Yep," Mary Ellen grinned at him. "Taryn broke up with Clay, though."

"Then Toby broke up with her," Chad said.

Melinda laughed. "Two men to no men. Seems sort of just, somehow. Well, it looks like you two are the foundation of the 'Expose Taryn Club.'"

Chad smiled broadly, looking at Mary Ellen. "We're going to save the world from Taryn Polk," he said.

"Or at least, the town of Port Charles," Mary Ellen grinned back.

Skye was sitting up at the bar when Sean Monroe came up and asked Mikhail for a beer. "Why hello, Skye," he said, in his friendliest accents.

"Hello, Sean," Skye said.

"Hey, Skye, do you want to go to the Nurse's Ball with me?" Sean asked her.

"No way," said Skye.

Sean just grinned. "You may as well say yes, because I'll keep pestering you. And about coming to see my apartment, too."

"I have no doubt of that," Skye rolled her eyes. "And I'll keep saying no. Though I may want to see your apartment. I'm thinking of looking for one for myself."

"You can still move into mine, as I offered before," Sean said.

"So that offer is still open? Sorry, no deal."

"OK," Sean said. "But come and see it anyway. Remember, 15D Fairview Court."

Skye went back into the office. When she came out an hour later, Sean wasn't there.

On her way home, Skye debated whether to drop by his apartment. She wanted to see him, she thought. Yet she viewed it as a weakness. Sean had cheated on her, though he claimed he didn't know they were exclusive, but how dense could he be? Would he really have reacted to her sleeping with some other guy with indifference? She wondered if Sean could ever be trusted. But then he had never actually lied to her. Once she had dumped him for sleeping with that slut Valerie Edwards, Sean had said he would agree they would be exclusive and they could move in together.

Skye thought about this. What would it be like living with Sean? Sure it would be great to have readily available all that great sex Sean was capable of. He was easygoing with little things, so it might not be that irritating to live with him. But why do it? Maybe she could get back together with him with the understanding they didn't sleep with anyone else, but not live together.

But why was she thinking of this? No way was she getting back together with Sean.

Still, she found herself driving over to the apartment, trying to bolster in her mind a justification based on her needing to see what types of apartments were available. Yet she knew that wasn't a really good reason to go and see Sean's.

Maybe seeing it and him would help her make up her mind. She thought she must be crazy to even consider getting back together with him. But his argument that he just didn't know she expected it and his offer to be exclusive and even live together, that he had made once he had found she didn't like his sleeping around, was very persuasive.

That was the problem with damn lawyers, Skye decided. They could be so convincing. Yet you couldn't be sure they meant it.

Laraine Breyer met her mother Lane for dinner at the Port Charles Grill.

Lane Charleson had gone back to her maiden name upon her divorce, even though she had three grown children named Breyer and had used that name herself for well over twenty years. But she had her reasons.

"Hello, dear," Lane said to her daughter.

"How are you, Mom? How are things at the library?" Lane was a librarian at the Port Charles Public Library.

"Fine, praise the Lord. How are things at Deception?"

"Hectic sometimes. But interesting."

"Have you made any new friends?"

"Sort of. There's Gia, she and I have hung out a little bit. She was a model and now she's a manager."

"Is she single, too?"

"No, she's married and in fact she is expecting."

"Oh, bless the Lord," said Lane. "Isn't that wonderful?"

"Gia is very happy about it," Laraine answered.

"It would be so nice for you to marry a good Christian man and have some children."

"Yes, that would be," Laraine said. She had learned not to debate these issues with Lane. There was no way to change Lane's mind about these things. "I guess you could say the same for Chad."

"He never tells me anything," Lane said.

Laraine understood where her brother was coming from.

After the waiter took their order, Lane said, "Have you met any nice guys recently?"

"No," Laraine said.

"Oh, well, praise God, someone will come along."

"I'm surprised you worry about it then, Mom."

"Oh, I don't worry that it won't happen. For all three of you. I pray for you all to be able to build good, Christian families."

"So you want a lot of grandchildren, eh, Mom?" Laraine tried to think of how to steer this conversation a different way, and then wondered why she even tried. She knew from experience that she would never succeed.

Lane just smiled. "There is someone very special. Our new pastor. Maybe you should meet him."

Laraine groaned inwardly. She looked away, as if looking to flag down a waiter, so she could have a second to compose her thoughts. This was the kind of thing she'd dreaded her mother wanting to do ever since Lane had been "born again."

And the pastor of that church! That was way worse than just some good Christian man Lane might have met as a fellow congregation member.

"So your new pastor isn't married?" Laraine asked.

"No," Lane said.

"So why don't you date him, Mom?" Laraine teased. But she knew the answer.

"Someday your father will see the light," Lane said.

Laraine didn't mind the idea of her parents getting back together. But she was fairly sure that her father wasn't going to be interested for a long, long time. Laraine didn't think he was as likely to be born again as Lane seemed to think. And Lane being un-born-again didn't seem a likely possibility.

"I wish you'd come to church more often," Lane said.

Laraine went sometimes to humor her mother. But her heart wasn't in it. At least, not the way Lane's was. And now, knowing Lane wanted her to meet this preacher and would probably be praying that she'd marry him, Laraine thought that church was the last place she wanted to go.

"I'll think about it, Mom," she said. That was what she always said.

Lane smiled the smile of the eternally saved. "I'll be praying for it," she said.

The next day, drinking orange juice while Laraine drank coffee at Kelly's, Gia smiled. "He would be different, you know. Different from all those guys you were dating and complaining that they were the same. And at least he'd speak English."

"Too much English," Laraine grinned. "One thing about being born again is that the words just flow off your tongue. And if this guy is the preacher, there's no end to his eloquence, no doubt."

"But then he won't be commitment phobic or sleeping around on you," Gia said.

"You're right. It'll at least be a different set of annoyances. Men are just annoying. Except when they don't speak English. Then they can't talk about how they don't want a commitment or how they want to play the field. Better than that, they can't control your life."

"Yeah, but they can learn English," Gia said.

Laraine laughed. "That's true. A different set of annoyances. Maybe it's worth trying. At least different. Or maybe more tolerable. I'm kind of used to Mom's language. It goes in one ear and out the other. But then a guy like that would expect me to start using that kind of language. I never can, you know? It's not so much that I don't believe in God, it's that I don't see the point in talking about it all the time. When people do, it even makes me a little suspicious. Why do they have to go on about it all the time?"

"It makes me uncomfortable, too," Gia said. "I know what you mean. My mom took us to church as kids. She wasn't like that, but some of the other people were, and I always felt put on the spot."

"That's it," Laraine said. "Put on the spot. That's how you feel. Then you think, well who appointed you God and gave you the right to examine my beliefs? When it's my mother, I can take it. I have Dad to balance her out."

"So your Dad is not born again," Gia said.

"Nope. Only once."

Gia laughed. "And your brothers?"

"They're just like me. Completely bamboozled. One day our mother was sane, and the next she was spouting like a holy roller."

"Really, was it sudden? Did she have an illness or something?"

"Nope. Nothing particular."

"Maybe it really was a miracle," Gia said.

Laraine threw a balled up napkin at Gia. "Don't you start on me now, too," she said. They both laughed.


	22. American Federal Law

Tatiana went to Alexis' office. Mikhail had given her Alexis' name when Tatiana had mentioned she wanted to find out about how she could stay in the US and get a work permit. Sergei thought she couldn't, but Mikhail said Alexis was a lawyer and would know for real. 

Alexis tried using her Russian again. It was getting better, since she had more Russians to talk to these days. She explained the basic rules to Tatiana. It looked as if there was no way for Tatiana to get a green card, at least, not for about ten years.

Tatiana had a hard time understanding. When she had been married to Mikhail, it had always been understood that she was coming to the US with Mikhail. Now that they were divorced, it threw her out. Tatiana had never thought about that as an effect of her divorce from Mikhail. She wondered if she should have at least waited for the green card to come through, but back when she had divorced Mikhail, that was still in the distant future.

"So if I marry a US citizen, I could get a green card."

"You could, but the government investigates to make sure it is a real marriage," Alexis said. "Not just to get a green card."

"Maybe I could get Mikhail to marry me again," Tatiana suggested, helpfully.

"For now, he's not a citizen, just a legal resident alien," Alexis said. "There would be a long waiting period."

Tatiana considered. "How long?" she asked.

"It could be around 7 years," Alexis said.

"I would be supposed to be still in Russia during that waiting time, right?"

"Yes."

"So I could get a divorce from Ivan on paper and marry Mikhail and still live with Ivan in Russia."

"They could still see it as a fraud. Especially if they found out you lived with Ivan. And I doubt Mikhail would want to stay married to you that long as a favor."

"Maybe. But to help Irina, he might. He might see it that way."

"Wait just another three years and Irina can get you a green card," Alexis said.

"That's ten years! Anything can happen in ten years."

"If you're going to do a fraud marriage, make it to a citizen. At least there is no waiting period. Just the process time. But if they find it's a fraud you'll have the book thrown at you. This isn't Russia. They get really upset at you for lying."

Tatiana considered this.

"You might even fall in love with a US citizen for real," Alexis said. "That is, if your present marriage happens to fail. Anything can happen in ten years."

"Hmmm," Tatiana's present marriage was fine.

"Wait, what about your present husband?" Alexis said. "If he can get a green card, you can come along on it, perhaps."

They discussed Ivan. Ivan was a truck driver. Alexis didn't think that Ivan would be able to qualify based on his employment skills. Ivan wasn't related to any US citizens.

"Looks like your best hope is to wait for Irina to grow up," Alexis said. "By the time she is 21 years old, she can have become a naturalized citizen of the US, and she will be old enough to file a petition for you as the parent of a US citizen."

"She can't do it any earlier?"

"No, to file for your parents, you have to be over 21. It's a common misunderstanding that having a baby in the US will help. It will, but not for 21 years."

Tatiana got up. She thanked Alexis and said, "You speak good Russian. Are you going to teach your young one?"

"I might," Alexis said.

"Do you know if it is a boy or girl?"

"No," Alexis said. "We decided to be surprised, the old fashioned way."

"Congratulations," Tatiana said. "Having children is a wonderful thing."

Over at Deception's office, Laraine, an accountant there, was working on some very complicated and challenging spreadsheets that she needed to finish by the end of the week.

Suddenly, there was a shadow in the door. A tall man in a dark suit and tie and sunglasses.

"Benjamin P. Willoughby," he said, flashing a badge. "IRS."

Laraine looked up, confused.

"The front desk sent me here," he said, as if a piece of furniture had spoken to him.

"This is accounting," Laraine said. "But I wasn't expecting an IRS agent. We filed all of our returns."

"This is an audit," he said.

"Don't you have to give us a warning?"

"No, but I could always issue a summons if you won't voluntarily comply. Then we take you to court to enforce it."

Laraine did not like the sound of this. Her stomach started to churn. "Well," she said, thinking, "I have to check this out with the head of the company."

"Suit yourself," he said. He sat down on the chair in her office.

Aggravated, Laraine went up to Oksana's office. But Oksana was away on her honeymoon, she remembered. She went over to Laura Spencer's secretary.

"There's an IRS agent in my office saying he's going to audit us," she whispered, not sure why she was doing it. It felt right, though.

The secretary got up and went into Laura's office, telling Laraine to wait.

Laura was already on the phone to a lawyer when Laraine came into her office. She waved Laraine to a chair.

"OK," Laura was saying. "Does he need a warrant?"

Laura listened for awhile. Laraine looked around the office, at the photo of Luke, the one of Laura and Luke with their children, and of Laura's other son, Nik, who was Gia's husband, and the wedding photo of Nik and Gia.

She swallowed really hard. Had she done something to bring this on?

Her thoughts were a thousand miles away, when she realized Laura was talking to her.

"Just plain bad luck," Laura said. "Random bad luck of the draw. We can have our outside accountant here or even our lawyer, but it sounds like it's not worth it. Let them have at it and if they find anything they want to use to say we have to pay more in taxes, we fight them then."

"OK," Laraine said. "Can they see anything they want?"

"He has a list of things he looks at," Laura said. "That's what Alexis says. Naturally, he can only look at financial records. Call me if he wants to see something that doesn't fall into that category."

"OK," Laraine said. "I'll do that."

She went back down to her office. The agent was sitting there, looking at some papers he had from his briefcase and talking on his cell phone. He looked up when she came in. She sat and waited. He stayed on the phone. Then he handed her a few sheets of paper. She stared at them while he finished the call.

"Let me see the bank statements and deposit slips first," he said. "So I can compare it to reported income." He sounded like he expected the income shown on the bank statements to be higher than the income shown on the return.

Laraine brought him the bank statements for the previous year. He started looking at them and told her to find the other things on the list. The list was long. Laraine realized he might be there for days. The list said he wanted to see "all your invoices, sales records and receipts, along with your general ledger and other formal bookkeeping records; cancelled checks and bills marked 'paid;' credit card statements, receipts for payments, especially travel, meal and entertainment expenses; loan documents, interest paid, interest received, stock certificates, time cards, job descriptions, benefit plans, invoices, canceled checks, contracts and other business records." "You have several independent contractors here," he remarked, looking at some of the paid invoices.

Laraine felt a headache coming on.

"We need to make sure you don't improperly classify regular employees as contractors," he explained. "Right," Laraine said. The list continued, saying he wanted to see "canceled checks, tax returns (What for? Didn't he already have those?), deposits, business records and other forms; (What other forms?); records documenting state, federal and Social Security (FICA) withholding, Medicare taxes, advance earned-income credit, unemployment compensation and workers' compensation premiums and documents reflecting salaries and bonuses paid to owners and officers of your business"

Laraine felt oppressed. She had realized that audits were possible. She just hadn't realized they could be so involved.

At the end of the day, he said he'd be back.

Laraine had a hard time sleeping that night, wondering if maybe she or another employee had inadvertently done something wrong in the past, and that now it was going to get them in big trouble.

But Laura had not seemed too upset.

Eventually, Laraine fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion.


	23. Dancing in the Dark

The next day, Agent Willoughby continued to fray Laraine Breyer's nerves at the offices of Deception. He asked for copies of various documents. As she made the copies, Laraine would notice what it was and wonder if there was a problem with that particular bill or check.

Her brain was frazzled by the end of the day. She didn't take any breaks. She wouldn't be able to relax anyway. She felt her head pound more and more as the day went on. Even when her head didn't hurt, she had an unpleasant tingly feeling in her arms and legs.

Cheryl Shue, one of the models, saw Laraine in the ladies' room. "You look tense, Laraine," she said. "What's wrong?"

"We're getting an IRS audit," Laraine explained. "An agent named Willoughby is in my office all the time and I'm afraid he's going to find we made some mistake on the tax returns. And of course I'm getting no work done."

"Do you think we might have a mistake on a return?" Cheryl asked. "Audits are random, aren't they? It doesn't mean we are suspected of doing anything wrong."

"I don't know," Laraine said. "I thought we did the right things, but there are so many decisions to make when you do the returns. What if this agent would have done it another way?"

"Stressful," said Cheryl.

"You can say that again."

At the end of the day, Cheryl and Gia came to her office and invited her to go out for a drink.

Grateful for their concern, Laraine could do nothing but accept. She didn't know if she would be very good company, though.

They took one car and went over.

"So is this agent cute?" Gia asked.

Laraine laughed, the first good laugh she'd had since the agent had appeared on her office threshold.

"I don't know!" she said, giggling. "He's an IRS agent. I guess he is ugly by default. Even if he looks like Brad Pitt."

"So you haven't really noticed?" Cheryl said, laughing too.

"Nope. I just see his lists of documents. He wears these sunglasses. He's so abrupt. He just – well, he sucks!"

Soon they were all laughing. As they walked into the London Underground, Laraine started forgetting Agent Willoughby and his lists. Inside the club, the music playing, it was as if work, the IRS, and the Agent's Lists could not possibly exist, and must be just a memory from some other time or dimension.

Mikhail was near the end of his shift. Clay came in to relieve him. To Clay's surprise, Taryn came up to the bar in a waitress outfit with a try and ordered two glasses of Chardonnay and a glass of lemonade.

"You work here now?" Clay said, incredulous.

"I need a job," Taryn said, shortly.

"Trying to work where Toby is so you can get him back."

"No, there is an opening here. And I need a job."

Clay wondered if this was going to be good or bad.

Patti came in and sat down and ordered a glass of Merlot from Taryn specially.

"How do you like it so far?" Patti asked Taryn.

"It's not too bad," Taryn said. "Not that hard. Mostly just drinks. I even got a few tips already."

Patti smiled.

Back in the storeroom, Tatiana said to Mikhail, "If you marry me again, it will take seven years. But if you become a citizen, that might hurry it up."

"I'm not going to marry you again," he said.

"Just for Irina," she said. "So I can live in the same country with her. This is all your doing that we have this problem."

"No, it's your doing because if we weren't divorced – oh, never mind. I'm not getting into that. And I'm not going to marry you again."

Tatiana shrugged. So much for that plan.

" And you are already married to Ivan," he continued. "So if you divorce him just to marry a US citizen to get a green card, they'll figure it out."

"How? Do they come into bedrooms? If you notice, the police aren't around much, in this country."

"That's why you don't mess with them," he said. "They don't deserve it. Maybe at home they do and you can live with your conscience about fooling the government, but not here. They are on the up and up."

Tatiana said nothing. She did not agree that there was such a thing on earth as a government that was on the up and up. But she was curious.

"You don't think they'd ever do wrong by you?" she asked. "You've only lived in this country a few months."

"They would play by their rules," he insisted. "Sure it may not be perfect, but at least they would play by their rules. Alexis says -"

"Yes, I talked to her," Tatiana said. "I know what the laws are. Still, who is to say I won't fall in love with a US citizen? Help me meet some."

"They are all over," Mikhail said. "This is the U.S." Mikhail knew Tatiana was in love with Ivan, though. Or she'd better be. He hadn't gone through all he had for some fling of hers. How she could treat it so casually now was beyond him.

But then, her daughter had not been an issue. Irina just lived with Tatiana, wherever Tatiana went. That is, until Irina had a US green card and Tatiana didn't.

Tatiana thought some more. It shouldn't be that hard. She could convince Ivan, maybe. He wouldn't be against coming to the US. If it would work, she could marry her US citizen, get a green card, divorce him, then marry Ivan again and Ivan could come to the US as her husband. Tatiana knew this would not be on the up and up, but a mother living in the same country with her child was the real issue. The Americans might follow their rules, but their rules were stupid. What kind of country separated children from their mothers?

Cheryl and Laraine each had a glass of Chardonnay while Gia, being pregnant, had a glass of ginger ale.

A bunch of girls were dancing, just randomly dancing around the floor. Gia recognized that they were mostly nurses and doctors from the hospital. Quinn and Joanna had come with Maureen. Emily Quartermaine was with them. They looked happy, and were just dancing and laughing and talking.

Emily passed by Patti's table, and stopped to talk to Taryn, who was putting Patti's drink down. Taryn introduced Patti and Emily and said how her mother liked to dance, and Patti looked like she was there on her own, so Emily invited Patti to join them.

"Let's go join that group and dance," Cheryl said to Laraine. "Do you mind, Gia?"

"No, I could do a little dancing myself, I think," Gia said.

"Great," Cheryl said. "Let's blow off some steam."

Feeling grateful again, Laraine followed Cheryl and Gia out to the dance floor. By this time, Patti was out there too.

It felt good to dance, just loose and free, the way they were. The jukebox was blaring (it was too early for the band) and the tunes were good. Laraine felt that men and IRS agents and work and fundamentalist Christians were floating away, at least for now. Feeling spirited, she kicked off her shoes and climbed onto a table by way of a chair.

It was the Northern Line Table, bordered in black. It felt pretty solid, and she tried a few steps. The women who were dancing were pretty much amused. Laraine was not drunk, so she made a few experimental steps and then danced comfortably on the table top, only drawing one protective swipe of an arm from Patti when she was near an edge.

Mikhail put on his jacket and went out to leave and go home. The sight of a girl dancing on a table arrested him for a minute.

She had an all-American sort of look to her. She was laughing and a bunch of other women were laughing with her. She looked brave and independent dancing up there like that, as if she didn't care what anyone thought, like one whose acts were judged only by her own heart and spirit. He stared at her, and no one noticed, because everyone else was watching her, too.


	24. Mercy High Prom

Kara and Peter were going to the prom. They were going with Tim and Diana and Jeremy and Branwyn. Oksana had rented a limousine to take them to the Port Charles Hotel, where the prom was always held nowadays. Oksana had also made sure that Deception did Kara's make up, hair and clothes again. She had arranged all this before going on her honeymoon, and Kara felt touched by this. Kara's mother, Beth, agreed with Kara it had been a really nice thing to do.

Kara's hair had grown another inch, and she was starting to feel used to it. She still wore a scarf for ordinary days, letting her bangs peek out of it. Beth was starting to pester her that she didn't need it. "You might not like your hair short, but now it looks like a normal short haircut," Beth pointed out. "It's not like having no hair at all."

"I just feel the same," Kara said. "As if I have no hair."

"You're too worried about your appearance," Beth said. "Anyone worth knowing understands, after what you went through with the tumor."

"I know, it's for me, not them," Kara said. She didn't quite understand it, herself, and wished Beth wouldn't bug her about it and just let her leave off the scarf in her own time.

Peter treated her that way, never mentioning the scarf and saying things that made her feel better. His asking her to the prom had thrilled her, though it hadn't been in any real doubt that he would. But now she wondered if her illness had somehow been responsible for the fact she still had this wonderful boyfriend. Though he was very good looking, he was also a nice guy and wouldn't break it off while she was ill.

If anything, her illness had brought them closer. The whole experience had thrown Kara for a loop. Peter said he loved her, but she wasn't sure he wasn't just trying to be nice to someone who might be dying of cancer. She felt fairly sure he believed it himself, but wondered if he had been fooling himself. She felt also a new urgency for everything in life, having taken it all for granted before. The cancer scare had her realizing that you could lose it, and suddenly, and maybe you should make the most of each day.

Kara had told Peter she loved him, too, but didn't have any of the same doubts about herself saying it - that she said it to experience it or to that Peter could at least know she had loved him if she died.

Peter helped Kara out of the limousine. They went in to have their pictures taken, right behind Jeremy and Branwyn. Tim and Diana came just after Peter and Kara.

That reminded her of their first date, when they'd gone to a museum with two other couples, one of them Tim and Diana, the other that time Peter's brother Zander and his fiancée, Quinn. The other two couples had been much closer and lagged behind Peter and Kara.

"Tim and Diana are behind us again," Kara said. "Like at the museum at Fort Niagara."

Peter smiled and hugged her. "That was really a fun day," he said. "Our first date, so I'll never forget it."

Kara started to relax. It was fun to dance and to just be there with Peter and her cousin Branwyn, with whom she had been good friends all her life, along with Peter's best friend Tim.

She danced with Jeremy and Tim, too, and with Greg Wentworth and a few other guys. She and Branwyn talked here and there. It was all very pleasant.

Branwyn and Kara went off together to the ladies' room at one point. There was a little hallway there, and as they went towards the door, Taryn came out of the ladies' room. She seemed a little drunk, and do did the girl who was with her.

"Hey," she said. "It's the good girls. The vestal virgins."

The other girl laughed as if that was the funniest thing she'd ever heard, and Taryn giggled too.

"Well, Bran," Kara teased. "I guess Jeremy still doesn't pressure you to go all the way. Wonder why that is?"

Taryn was already down the hall, still giggling with the other girl. Kara didn't know if Taryn had heard her remark, and wondered at herself. It was a little mean. But then so was Taryn's silly remark. But Kara was much more forgiving these days. She felt a little sorry for Taryn now, where she'd used to feel threatened. Taryn had dated Peter for a while, before he had started seeing Kara. Kara had felt less attractive than Taryn on her best day.

Now Kara had a much broader perspective. What had appeared to be Taryn's greater sophistication no longer seemed so alluring or impressive.

"I wonder," Branwyn said. "I'm relieved about that. Then on the other hand-well, you know, if he were really crazy about me-"

"Exactly," Kara said. "It's a real poser."

"Yes," Branwyn smiled.

"But you know, I'm not as positive now that it's a bad idea," Kara said.

"Yeah, 'cause you might get run over by a bus one day and then never experience it."

"I don't think of it that crudely," Kara said. "More like just living, life, appreciating the beauty."

"Hmmm," Branwyn said. "I know what you mean, but if it's not a good experience, why not miss it and be happier? That's the problem. You can't know. Or I can't know. You can."

"I'm just thinking next year, when we're in college and have dorm rooms," Kara said. "Nothing definite. Just maybe."

"Well, you can't just do maybe when it comes right down to it," Branwyn said. "Better go to the doctor's first, and get on the pill or whatever."

"Now that scares me. And I'd have to do it without Mom finding out."

"But of course."

"Hey, you go with me."

"Oh, no. I'm not even going to tempt myself."

"OK, just go for the support."

"I can do that."

"My hair'll be grown out by then, too," Kara said.

"That's not what you're really waiting for!"

"No, it's just – a bonus."

"Oh Kara. Your hair looks fine now. In fact, really cute."

"Thanks, Branwyn. Yours looks nice, up that way, too."

"It feels sophisticated. Which you ought to feel like, too, with that dress and that hair."

Kara smiled. "Thanks," she said.

Back out on the dance floor, Kara danced with Peter.

"It's nice of your mom to help me through her company," Kara said. "Have you heard from her, on her honeymoon?"

"Not much, just after they got there, so we'd know they were there safe."

"It's a long trip."

"It sure is. Australia is way far away. But I'm glad he's showing her his native land."

"She has to do the same for him."

"Someday. Though most of them are finding their way over here. Still, she can show him where she went to school and stuff like that. I found it really interesting when she showed me."

"What about your Dad?"

"He doesn't have much of a past. No family."

"That's sad. Guess he isn't into showing you where he grew up."

"He took us around when we lived in Moscow with him," Peter said. "Sander and I. Your parents – they can do that easily, can't they?"

"Oh sure. Mom went to Mercy High, even. She said in her day, they had the prom in the gym, and not at some fancy hotel!"

"She was young once."

Kara giggled. She looked up into Peter's eyes. "She was young once, too, Mom was," she said. "But it was back in the dinosaur age, when proms took place in gyms."

"Logical place for the prom, really," Peter said. "Your mom's generation knew what they were doing."

Kara's eyes danced with amusement.

"I'll tell her you said that," she said.

He leaned down and kissed her then. Kara felt like she was in heaven.


	25. A Baseball Game

The Port Charles Stevedores were a Class A Short Season minor league team. Jeremy Marshall played center field. His batting average was .297, which wasn't nearly as good as it had been in high school. But this was the pros.

He had some vague dreams of playing for the AAA Buffalo Bisons, but didn't think much about the majors. But this was a start, and it was remotely possible.

His girlfriend, Branwyn Delaney, came to whatever games she could. The stands weren't always crowded and it was easy to come for part of a game, just wandering in casually. On the way in between innings, Jeremy saw her sitting on the home team side with her brother Hugh and her brother Matt. Further up, he saw her sister Mary Ellen with another guy.

Chad Breyer had called Mary Ellen at the newspaper office and asked her if she wanted to go to the game. He joked that they need to have a meeting of the Expose Taryn Polk club. Chad and Mary Ellen had met when they happened to stand next to each other at the bar at the London Underground when Taryn Polk was there and had berated both of them for their separate acts which had exposed something she didn't want anyone to know. For Chad it was telling his brother Toby that Taryn was dating both Toby and another guy, Clay (another brother of Branwyn and Mary Ellen's, who was a bartender at the London Underground). For Mary Ellen, a reporter, it had been publishing a piece in the Port Charles Gazette about Taryn's legal troubles.

That little incident started them talking, and Mary Ellen had invited Chad to sit with her sisters and herself, and they had talked.

Mary Ellen was pleased that he had called her for this date. She had not really been expecting it, but had hoped she might run into him again and get another chance to talk to him. So it was great that he was interested.

Naturally, her little sister Branwyn was there, because her boyfriend was on the team. Being from a family in nine in a small town like Port Charles meant you just had to accept running into siblings everywhere. But they were all used to it. Branwyn and the two brothers said hello to Chad and Mary Ellen, understanding that they would sit somewhere else together.

A few rows up and behind third base, Zander was sitting between his Uncle, Mikhail and his cousin, Irina, explaining the game to them in English. Zander's wife was a nurse; she was on the evening shift, so she wasn't there. It was a great opportunity to help his relatives with their English. Zander firmly believed in taking them places and getting them to see things and increasing their vocabulary; favoring that over precision of correct grammar.

"People will understand you even if you get it wrong," Zander said. "It's the words you need."

"I said I comed to America, not right?" Mikhail asked. "Somebody ask me, when you come to America? I said 'I comed' and I know – not right."

"No, but they knew what you meant," Zander said. "You got the word. Don't worry about the variations yet. You know the rule for past tense and you used it. But English has tricky exceptions. Just like Russian. That is 'came.' Past tense of 'come' is 'came.'"

"I came to America," Mikhail said. "Came, came. Come, came, has come? Or has came, or has comed?"

"Has come, I think," Zander said. "Now I'm getting confused."

"Zander," said Irina. "I did that too. I said I putted my skates down. I put my skates down. Why isn't it putted?"

"Because the English were crazy when they made their language," said Zander. "Just like the Russians." He quoted a couple of irregular verbs in Russian.

"I see, like that," Mikhail said.

"You are lucky to know both of them, Zander," Irina said.

"You're going to be that way too, soon," said Zander.

A few rows below them, Skye Quartermaine and Sean Monroe were on a date.

When Skye had gone to see Sean's apartment, the previous week, Sean had surprised her by acting like a gentleman and just showing it to her. The next time she ran into him (in the park, jogging, as Sean walked through it to the courthouse), he had asked her to come over for dinner. On guard but curious, Skye accepted and went. He cooked her a nice dinner and never tried to touch her and only flirted with her a little.

Skye knew he thought that this was a good plan for "working" her and was just following it, but was charmed nevertheless.

And he did seem to want to be involved with her, which was something. True, she belonged to an important family, but if Sean were really into that kind of thing, Skye felt that Sean had his chances with the daughters of people far more important than the family she belonged to.

So when he asked her to the baseball game, she accepted, thinking it was sort of fun to just go on dates and try to figure out what Sean was up to.

"How did you get the tickets?" Skye asked.

"I bought them," he said.

"Not some client gave them to you? How unusual."

"I do unusual things now and then," Sean said.

"Yeah, and they're not always fun."

"Is this?"

"Yeah, I kind of like it."

"You like baseball?"

"Every once in awhile."

"How is your apartment hunting coming?" he asked.

"I haven't had a lot of time for it, lately," she said. "I'll work on that some more next week."

"How's AJ getting along? Or should I say, how is his girlfriend managing?"

"So far, so good. Joanna's practical. She's likable. Nobody's bothered her."

"Yet," said Sean.

"I think the kids help," Skye said. "My folks and even my grandfather aren't going to get high and mighty with kids. It's one of their rare good qualities. Michael loves them, and Joanna, so that has kept the family in pretty good behavior. When they're around, it puts them on better behavior with AJ. Fortunately for AJ, it's more like they want Joanna to think they're cool, you know?"

"I hope it works out," Sean said. "To everyone's satisfaction."

"Yeah, right. Then nobody'll need a lawyer."

He just laughed. He put his arm around the back of her seat. "Second inning," he said. "No runs yet."

Jeremy Marshall hit a line drive single to right field. Skye jumped up and cheered. Sean smiled.

Later, when he took her home, he kissed her good night at the door. Skye was really amused. He was going all out now. Well, she'd just enjoy the ride and see how far he'd go and how long it would be until he returned to his regular obnoxious self.


	26. A Man Who Fits the Bill

The next evening, Saturday, Laraine Breyer was on a date with Sam Quackenbush. She considered it something to get over with. She looked forward to it about as much as she might look forward to an I.R.S. audit.

But it would get her mother off her back. Her mother, Lane, naturally thought that the preacher at her church (Sam) was the best possible man for any girl to land. Somehow, Lane must have given him her number. He had called Laraine at work and asked her if she wanted to go and see a movie.

It wasn't as bad as Laraine had thought it was going to be. He didn't wear any kind of clerical collar, just a button down shirt. Laraine got a feeling that he too was doing it just to be able to tell Lane he had gone out with her. It was probably common for him, as a single preacher, to have mothers of single women want him for their daughters.

They saw a movie rated PG and he didn't act shocked or anything. When she experimentally suggested a drink at the London Underground, he said that sounded fine. So he wasn't above going into a nightclub/bar.

Laraine knew it was not a night that her brother's band would be playing the London Underground. If it had, she'd have suggested Luke's bar. But she really liked the London Underground, since she'd had a great time there the last time she'd gone, with Gia and Cheryl from work.

On the way there, Sam asked Laraine about her family. He knew from Lane that she had two younger brothers. One played in a rock band.

"Yeah, Mom doesn't approve at all," Laraine said. "I guess you don't think that's such a good idea."

"It's not a bad idea in itself," he said. "There are Christian rock bands."

"The Dissentors are not a Christian rock band, believe me," Laraine said.

Sam just smiled.

"Your family must be proud of you," Laraine said. "I'm sure they wouldn't be involved in rock music, unless it was Christian."

"My family is more colorful than you would think," he said. "And none of them are Christians."

Laraine resisted the temptation to roll her eyes, even though he couldn't see her for driving the car. Lane was like that, too. The rest of the family were all baptized Christians, but it didn't count with them unless you were "born again." Obviously, Sam looked at it the same way.

A little mischievously, and just to test him, she said, "So are they Muslim or Jewish or what?"

He grinned. At least he didn't get mad. Laraine noted that.

"My sister, Misty, got involved with drugs," he said. "She had a court date for sentencing and she was out on bail. She faked her death and ran off to Texas."

"Wow," Laraine said, amazed. "Did you know it was faked?"

"No," he said. "We thought she might have been abducted and murdered. The cops were looking for her, because she was missing too, not just the warrants. Then they found her abandoned pickup truck. There was blood all over it. They found her wallet and identification. They were looking for the body. About five weeks later, a Texas cop who happened to have moved there from Port Charles and become a cop there, had read about Misty's disappearance, and he knew her from school, so it stuck in his mind. He spotted her in Texas. She was arrested again and brought back."

"Must have been a relief to your family, though."

"It sure was. I was trying to accept that they were just looking for a body."

"So she went to jail?"

"Yes, with an extra year on her sentence for jumping bail."

"Is she out yet?"

"One more year."

"Do you visit her?"

"As often as I can. She always says she must have been meant to get caught, because what were the odds of some guy who knew her from PC being a cop in Texas and in the same town she was in? So I try to get her to see the Lord's hand guiding that."

"But she doesn't?"

"Not so far," he grinned.

At least he had a nice attitude toward it, Laraine thought. He wasn't down on his sister.

"Is she older or younger than you?"

"She's older. I think my decision to go into the ministry had a lot to do with her disappearance, and her troubles."

At the bar, Laraine volunteered to get the drinks. Maybe since he was a minister, he wouldn't want to order at a bar. "Sure," he said, good naturedly. "I'll just have a lemonade. That is, if it's allowed in a bar."

Laraine smiled at his humor and made her way to the bar.

It was moderately crowded. Laraine went to the edge of the bar. She looked at a woman who was at the end, working on some papers. Skye Quartermaine, the one who had run over her brother Toby. She still had her job at the bar.

"Can I help you?" Laraine heard someone say, rather slowly.

She looked up to see a bartender she had never seen before; he was the very definition of tall, dark and handsome. Such things didn't usually floor her, but somehow this one did. It wasn't like you expected the bartender to be a knockout.

"I, uh," she said, recovering and feeling idiotic. "I need a Chardonnay and a lemonade."

"Lemon?" he looked confused.

Clay Delaney was a few feet away. "Hey, Clay," her confused bartender said, "what is Lemon - "

He looked at her, questioning. "Lemonade," Laraine said, hearing enough of a foreign accent to understand that he just didn't know the word. Well, it was a bar. This must be the first time someone ordered lemonade.

"Sorry," he said, with a slight grin. "My English."

Laraine nodded and tried to smile, to reassure him she wasn't annoyed. To make things more awkward, he looked familiar somehow. Where did she know him from? She would feel like an idiot to ask, too. Wasn't that the oldest dumb line in the book?

"Lemonade," said Clay, "Well, uh, yeah, we can do lemonade. We might have to run out to a convenience store, but we could do it."

"Go upstairs to Kelly's," Skye suggested.

The handsome foreign bartender disappeared up the stairs that were behind a door at the end of the bar.

"What else did you need?" Clay said to Laraine. "I'll get it while Mikhail tracks down the lemonade."

Laraine told him. She watched as Clay poured her a glass of Chardonnay. He set it down in front of her, saying, "Mikhail just got off the boat. Thought he knew all the drinks by now. Just goes to show there's always something new."

Laraine nodded. Mikhail came back from the stairs with a glass of lemonade.

"Sorry," she said, as he handed it to her.

"No problem," he said. "I learn a new word."

She smiled and he smiled back. She paid and then walked off with the two glasses. As she walked off, she looked back once. He was taking another order.

"Thank you," Sam said to her, as she got to the table.

"You're allowed to drink lemonade in this nightclub," she said, trying to smile.

"Sometimes, God just gives you a sign," he said, smiling, as he took a sip.

Laraine glanced back at the bartender. Her stomach did a few flips. She took a sip of the wine, hoping it would somehow clear her head and return her to normalcy. "Like what happened to your sister inspiring you to go into the ministry?" she said.

"More like what my sister did," he said. "She made it all happen. That's what you've got to take control of."

"Oh, sure," Laraine said. Suddenly Sam and his sister weren't as interesting as they had been.

"That was a sign from God all right," said Gia, laughing, on Monday, at work. "Just perfect. Good looking and does not speak English and you already know him from somewhere."

Laraine laughed too. "If I could just figure it out. It's too much of a line to say where have I seen you before? If I knew, then I could mention it."

"Now what will you do? And you have to use simple English."

"Well, I liked the LU before," Laraine said. "I can go in there without feeling like I'm just doing it just to hit on the bartender. Besides," she said, ruefully, "that must go on every night. There are a lot of women who will notice that guy. But maybe it will come to me why he looks familiar."

"In the meantime, you'll be the one to buy the drinks," Gia laughed. "I can't drink now, so I'll order the lemonade. And all those other women you're worried about? Forget them. They don't have your appreciation for bad English."

Laraine smiled. It was all a joke, really.

"I can't wait to see how this one goes," Gia said.


	27. Mercy High Graduation

Oksana and Jax came back from their honeymoon, as planned, just in time for Peter's high school graduation.

The two families planned a joint party for Peter and Tim.

"I can't believe they are graduating," Rosa said to Lisa and Diana. "I can remember when you were all so little." She couldn't have remembered Tim, but she threw him into her group of loved ones anyway.

Diana was really happy about Tim graduating. They planned on his getting a job too, and finding a place to live. They hadn't told anyone about it.

"I wish you could have had a real graduation, Sandy," Peter said to his brother Zander.

"I'll have my college one," Zander said. Zander had not thought about missing his high school graduation. He had gotten a GED. But now that the idea was in his head, he realized that he would have his college graduation ceremony for everyone to go to. It was a thought that made him happy.

"You'll just come to my college graduation," Zander said to Peter. "We'll make it an extra big bash. You can't go to college without graduating high school, so it will include high school. And be an inspiration to you."

"I'm going to need it, Sandy. I still don't know what I want to do. I hope I can figure it out like you did."

Zander had decided to become a teacher due to encouragement he got from his mother-in-law, who was a teacher. Kathleen had looked into Zander's school records to help him get his education back on track, and get his GED. She'd found comments from one of his teachers in Russia saying he was a natural for a teacher, when he helped other students in their English as a foreign language class. It had gone from an idea to a dream to a reality.

The graduation was in the Mercy High auditorium. Zander remembered some of the other graduates, friends of Peter. There was Taryn Polk, a girl Peter had dated for a little while, Kara Delaney, who Peter was going out with now, Jeremy Marshall, who was on the baseball team with Peter and Tim; and who was going out with Kara's cousin, Branwyn Delaney, who was another graduate. Then of course there was Zander's brother-in-law, Tim Connor, who was Pete's best friend now.

Zander and Quinn were both there, each for a brother and brother-in-law, and there were Oksana and Jax, Zander and Peter's father, Sergei, and Danny and Kathleen Connor, Quinn and Tim's parents, along with Joe Quinn, who was Quinn's godfather and close to all the Connors, and Tim's and Quinn's younger brother, Brad. Diana and Lisa, servants yet family members like their aunt Rosa, who was now Oksana's butler, and had been Peter and Zander's nanny, were there too. Zander was glad Peter had everyone around for his graduation; everyone who really mattered to him was there.

Zander wondered if they would be there for his college graduation. With any luck, they all would.

"What are you thinking about?" Quinn asked him. "Your graduation, I bet."

"How'd you know?"

"We will make it a big one," she said, just smiling and taking his hand. "You've worked for it."

"I feel pretty lucky right now," Zander said. "Married to the greatest girl in the world, about to become a teacher, and I have my little brother and even my whole family with me. Even my grandparents and my uncle and cousin."

Quinn kissed him. "You are the best, and they are lucky they all have you. And I am lucky to have you, too."

They cheered as Tim got his diploma. "Now there's a miracle," kidded Quinn's father, Danny.

"Couldn't have done it without Zander to help him with his Russian," said Kathleen, Quinn's mother.

Zander smiled at her and shook his head. It was silly, but it was a nice thing to say. Kathleen never let go an opportunity to encourage Zander as a teacher. That she was a teacher herself made it all the more meaningful.

Quinn looked at Zander as Peter received his diploma. She could remember back when his whole life was one big attempt to get his little brother away from their infighting parents. She felt so happy for Zander that she could hardly talk. She just squeezed his arm. He patted her hand, understanding how she felt.

Later everyone was at the party at Oksana's house, until Peter and Tim left to drop in on some of their classmates' parties. Later they came back with Kara and even later in the evening, Kara's parents came over with her younger brother and little sisters.

"Now I go look for a good job," Tim said to Diana, sitting with her outside.

"Take a vacation first," she said, snuggling up to him.

"Hey," he said, "I wonder if we could swing going somewhere, together. For a vacation."

"We could go to Florida to visit," Diana suggested. "I'd love my folks in Miami to meet you. Maybe Lucky and Lisa would want to go, too."

"Yeah, we can get hotel rooms at opposite ends of the hotel," Tim said, grinning. "Should we drive or take a flight?"

"It'd be fun to drive," Diana said, "We can stop and see things. Though it would take a long time."

"Florida," Tim said. "Might want to save that for the winter."

"Hadn't thought of that," Diana said. "Good point. It'll be really hot in the summer."

"So are you ready to sing with me for the nurse's ball?" Tim asked, changing the subject.

"Me? I don't sing."

"Maybe I'll go in with Lucky and Lisa," he said. "Or get Quinn and Joanna again."

"That act was pretty good," Diana said. "You could go on your own, too."

"That I don't know if I'm brave enough to do," Tim said.

"What isn't he brave enough to do?" they heard Quinn say. She and Zander had walked out, hand in hand.

"Sing by himself for the nurse's ball," said Diana.

"You could do it," Quinn said.

"I'll think it over," Tim said.


	28. V and Amy

V. Ardanowski hummed as she waited for Amy Friel to arrive at the police station. School was out now, and it was a good day to have Amy tag along. V. looked forward to it. Amy was a nice kid, and rather smart.

When Amy got there, V. took her around the station, starting in her own office. She introduced her to Hannah Scott and explained Hannah's job, with some help from Hannah. Hannah was the local FBI agent, and helped them with tough cases or got involved in cases that involved federal jurisdiction. Amy asked what kind of cases had federal jurisdiction. That was a smart question, V. thought.

"Cases that involve interstate elements," Hannah explained. "For instance, if a kidnapping occurs in New York, but in carrying out that crime, the perpetrator takes the victim across state lines, it is a federal crime, too."

"Oh, that's why they refer to crossing state lines," Amy said.

"Exactly," Hannah said. "Or you have fraud scams where people use the mail, and it's the federal government that handles the post office."

She showed Amy the database they could use to look for missing persons.

"You remember Zander?" V. said to Amy.

"Of course," Amy said. "I was with him and bunch of others when I was supposedly missing."

"Well, once upon a time, Zander was a missing person, and we figured out who he really was with this database. He was using the name 'Smith' so that made it harder, but we still did it," Hannah said.

"Wow," Amy said. "It looks to me like you could find anybody with that thing."

V. took Amy to briefly meet Commissioner Scorpio and then to meet Detective Taggart.

Amy went with V. and Detective Taggart to the city hall of records, where they looked up some permits. It seemed that they were evidence in some case. Then, they went to interview a doctor about the injuries someone had suffered in an assault. Later, they went to jail to talk to the Defendant.

V. gave Amy a ride home at the end of the day.

"So what do you think?" V. asked her.

"It looks interesting. You're not chained to a desk all day."

"You can be sometimes," V. said. "There are days when you do a lot of paperwork. But those are fairly few. Sometime, you don't have much to do and so you pull out the cold cases."

"The unsolved murders?"

"Yep, though there aren't many of those. There's a lot of unsolved auto theft."

"Is it busy right now?"

"Not much. It'll pick up, though. A lot of stuff happens in summer."

"Kids out of school have time to cause trouble?"

"Sometimes. Though there are fights in the school, sometimes. Drug dealing."

"Is there a lot of that at PCH?"

"There isn't a lot of it, but there's some and it's dangerous," V. said.

"Man, that's scary," Amy said. "School seems so ordinary to me, you know? I don't think I know any kids who would be dealing drugs."

"Usually they are low level, and when we find them, we try to get to tell them who the adults are."

When they got to the house, Amy asked V. to come in. Her father wasn't there yet. But that was part of her plan.

Amy got two glasses of iced tea and invited V. to sit in the back yard.

"This is such a nice yard," V. said. "So pretty. So much – greenery."

"My mom loved it," Amy said. "She planted all kinds of flowers and stuff. We used to have vegetables."

"You didn't keep it up?"

"No, I wish we had."

"Maybe you can get it started again," V. suggested. "I come from the country, I can help if you don't know how."

"Really, would you do that?" Amy asked.

"Sure, it would be fun."

They talked about the police station for a little while, and then Amy said, "Would you like to have a look at the garden?"

"Sure," V. said, getting up with alacrity.

Amy made her way out to the garden. "This is where she had wildflowers. Look, some of them still bloom. Virginia Bluebells, and Bloodroot."

"My mom plants both of those," V. said.

"My mom used to have tulips here," Amy said. "All kinds of colors."

They tramped through the garden, making comments on this or that plant.

"Oh," said Amy. "That's the stuff Dad planted for Mom."

V. looked down. She took hold of the leaves. Marijuana. Definitely.

Amy was looking at something else.

"Oh, I messed up," she said. "I hope I didn't get Dad in trouble."

"I'm a cop," V. said. "But that doesn't mean I don't have a heart. So this helped your mom when she was sick?"

"Yeah, it's a good painkiller, apparently," Amy said. "No one's used it since. But somehow we don't have the heart to clear it out, you know?"

"Sure," V. said, feeling sad for them.

"But I guess you have to arrest him," Amy said.

"I'll talk to him about it," V. said. "I couldn't arrest him."

"Oh, yes," Amy said. "That would be really cool if you would just talk to him about it."


	29. Taryn and AJ

Taryn found the place on Mill Street where she had to do her community service. As the judge had ordered, it was a non-profit organization to help people with addictions. It was called Hope's Place. Taryn could see the sign in the window. It was a simple looking sign and the building looked very plain compared to the other stores and offices around it.

She went into the place, and it was as plain inside as it was out; one couch, in a fake brown leather, and three simple chairs of the same thing. A plastic coffee table with a few pamphlets and a plastic plant sitting in the middle of it made up the rest of the décor. The walls were just plain.

She saw someone sitting behind the counter.

"I'm here to do community service," Taryn said.

"Come on back," said the receptionist.

"What do I do?" Taryn asked.

"Man the phones, make appointments, just generally explain to people what we can do," said the receptionist. "Have a seat."

There was no one else in the room. There were a bunch of desks with phones. Taryn picked up one of the ubiquitous pamphlets. It was all about meetings and counseling and books to read.

A man came in, extending his hand. "Hi, I'm AJ Quartermaine," he said. "You're the new volunteer?"

"Sort of," Taryn said, standing up to shake his hand and introduce herself.

"Nice to meet you, Taryn," he said. "I'm a recovering alcoholic. You look a little young for that, though."

"I don't think I'm an alcoholic," Taryn said. "I was drunk that one night."

"Got a DUI?"

"No, in the end the plea bargain was for disturbing the peace. I had this defense of necessity; I only drove the car to get it off the railroad tracks when a train was coming."

"Oh, I remember reading about that in the local paper."

Taryn grimaced.

"Made you a little too notorious for a while, didn't it?" AJ grinned.

Taryn nodded.

"Be thankful," AJ said. "My story is much worse." He told Taryn how he had been driving drunk and how his brother Jason, who was a passenger, had gotten badly hurt.

"I got hurt in an accident once," Taryn said. "And the driver wasn't drunk. Just mad. Skye Quartermaine."

"That's my sister," AJ said. "You were one of the ones that got hurt in that? I'm sorry."

"I'm OK now. I know your sister Emily, too. I was dating one of the guys in the band. Or maybe, still am."

"The band? Oh, that band Emily has friends in, that plays at the London Underground?"

"Yeah. Friends," Taryn was starting to get wary. Maybe AJ wasn't supposed to know Emily's boyfriend was the band's drummer, Wylie Doyle. You never knew with these Quartermaines. They seemed to have all sorts of problems.


	30. Brothers and Sisters

Chad Breyer and his sister Laraine were walking through the park. They got together every so often to exchange news.

Chad was amused with Laraine's story of her date with Sam Quakenbush.

"Wonder what Mom would think if she knew about that sister," Chad wondered.

"You know what she would think," Laraine said. "That the Lord has blessed Misty by making her brother a preacher who can save her soul."

"I have to say there is a good side to Mom's stuff. She doesn't condemn people like that. I mean, she has a lot of pity for people like this Misty. She's not like, lock them away and throw out the key, like many people are."

"Like Dad might be," Laraine mused. "You have a point."

Oksana was walking through the park with Mikhail and Irina. They had invited her to go along with them, and Oksana liked to spend time with her brother, so she took him up on that opportunity. It was a challenge not to resort to Russian. Her son Aleksander, who called himself Zander, had told her that morning to make them speak English on their walk in the park.

"My nephew is relentless," Mikhail said, in Russian, but grinning. "But that is good. How do I say 'relentless' in English?"

Oksana told him. "He will like it if you use that word on him," she told Mikhail, in English.

"Re-lent-less," Mikhail said. "I will try to remember it."

Irina repeated the word a couple of times. "What does it mean?" she asked.

"That he will not let us get lazy about using English," Mikhail said.

When they came up to the fountain, they ran into a young man and a young woman.

Mikhail recognized her immediately. The girl who had danced on the table. The one who had asked for lemonade. With yet a different man. But that might be a good thing.

She caught his eye and stared. She seemed frozen. He felt frozen, too.

"Oh, hello, Laraine," Oksana said.

His sister knew her. Now, that was a big break.

"Hi," the girl said, taking her eyes off Mikhail and turning to Oksana. Then it took her a second or two to say, "It's nice to see you back, Oksana."

"I'm her brother," Chad said, offering his hand to Oksana to shake.

"Oh, yeah," Laraine said, her eyes going from Mikhail to her brother. "Sorry. This is my brother, Chad Breyer. Chad, this is Oksana, my boss."

"Glad to meet you, Chad," Oksana said. "This is my brother, Mikhail, and his daughter, Irina. This is Laraine Breyer, she works in accounting at Deception."

"Le-renn," Mikhail said. His attempt to say her name came out like that.

A little recovered, Laraine said, "You're the bartender at London Underground."

"Of course," he said. "You ask for the lemonade," he added.

"Asked," corrected Irina.

"I thought you looked familiar and couldn't figure out why," Laraine said, feeling like she was rambling. She looked at Oksana. "It's the family resemblance that did that."

Oksana smiled. "I am so lucky to have my family with me now."

"Oh, I know, I heard the girls at Deception talking about how they couldn't come from Russia," Laraine answered. "For so many years." She looked at Irina. "How old are you?" she asked.

"Eleven," said Irina. "How old are you?"

"I don't think you ask grown-ups that," Mikhail said.

Laraine just laughed. "Twenty-eight," she told Irina.

"I'm twenty-three," Chad volunteered.

"But I am not answering," Oksana said, tossing Irina's pony tail. Everyone laughed.

"I am thirty-five," Mikhail said to Chad and Laraine. "And she is my big sister," he put his arm around Oksana.

"Oh, be quiet," said Oksana. But she smiled at her younger brother. "That means I remember stories of when you were a little brat, and I will tell them if you say how old I am."

He smiled and squeezed her shoulders.

Laraine smiled. "Hear that," she said to Chad.

"Oh, I already know that," Chad said, good humoredly.

"Are you the oldest, Laraine?" Oksana asked.

"Yes, and I have another, even younger brother."

"I am too, and have another younger brother and sister," Oksana said.

Laraine and Oksana smiled at each other. Oldest sister to oldest sister. "Are the others in the US now, too?" Laraine asked.

"No, not yet," Oksana said.

"I heard your parents are here."

"Yes. They and Mikhail came first."

"And me," said Irina.

"And you," Oksana smiled down at her niece.

"Well, it was nice seeing you," Laraine said, feeling like she and Chad should move on. "Nice meeting you – again," she said to Mikhail. "And you, Irina."

"Nice to see you," Oksana said. Mikhail and Irina echoed her.

"What was that all about?" Chad immediately asked her, with a big grin.

"I ran into my boss in the park," Laraine said. "And you got to meet her. That is what that was all about."

"Why does her brother – Mikhail," Chad drew out the name and put an emphasis on it, "Send you into a tailspin?"

"Like I said," Laraine answered, "I ordered drinks in the London Underground, and he did look familiar. Now he was with Oksana, I can put two and two together. It was one of those mystery things, you know, it was bothering me, where did I see him before? Hasn't that ever happened to you?"

"Yeah," Chad admitted. "But it doesn't throw me for a loop. Get me staring right at that person's eyes. Turn me into a temporary zombie."

"And I turned into a temporary zombie. Well, I space out from time to time. I wasn't expecting to see the boss in the park. So how did your date with that girl go? I meant to ask you about that. The reporter, wasn't she?"

"Fine. Don't change the subject to my love life. You've got it for your boss's brother."

"Since I've seen him twice in my life and he doesn't speak English, that's a little premature."

"Apparently, that doesn't matter. You could cut the tension with a knife. Both of you."

"Sometimes I wish you were less perceptive," she said. "Do you really think so? Because how could I talk to him? OK, I admit he is cute. But how could I talk to him?"

"Hire an interpreter," her brother grinned. "How much talk do you need?"

"Chad!" she said. "Tell me about this reporter girl before I – find her and tell her about stuff you did when you were four."

Chad laughed. "OK, sis, I'll let up on you for a little bit. Mary Ellen is really nice. Her brother is also a bartender, at the London Underground, did you know that? And she has eight brothers and sisters. She is fifth, don't you know? Right smack dab in the middle. Just like me. And she's kind and funny. Dedicated to her job. I think she wants to be the best reporter in the world. She is best friends with two of her sisters. They hang out together a lot. They like the Dissentors. So she claims, but maybe she's just being nice."

"She sounds pretty cool. Will you see her again?"

"I hope so. I was thinking of asking her out to dinner. What do you think? Or should I make it less formal? Like going for drinks at the London Underground. Maybe talk you up to your Russian bartender."

"Maybe Luke's," Laraine said, ignoring Chad's jibe. "It's a little quieter, and you can hear yourself talk. I think the simpler, the better, at first."

"Yeah," Chad said. "We can talk. Mary Ellen speaks English. Fluently."

Laraine rolled her eyes. "Yeah, so you can say something to get yourself into trouble easier."

"Never looked at it that way," Chad said. "But there's something to that. But not so much early on. No, then you need to talk. Now, if I were as good looking as Oksana's brother, I wouldn't need to be so entertaining early on."

Laraine gave him a look, and he laughed.

Oksana stopped at Zander and Quinn's house on her way out the next day.

"Hi, Mom," Zander said.

"Do you want a cup of coffee?" Quinn asked.

"You guys – you are the expert at matchmakers, right?" Oksana said.

"You have somebody in mind?"

Oksana told them of how she and Mikhail and Irina had run into one of the Deception employees, with her brother, at the park. "And you could tell they saw each other before and they are – what's the word? Knocked out by each other."

"Whoah, Mom," Zander said. "Maybe I got this talent from you. So you want to work this one?"

Quinn giggled. "You're ridiculous," she said to Zander, but she kissed him on the cheek.

Zander was grinning at Oksana over his coffee cup. "We have a language barrier," he said. "That's a new challenge, even for us."

"Not total," Oksana pointed out. "Improving all the time."

"Sounds good to me," Quinn said. "Who needs talk?"

Zander gave her a teasing tap. "You women," he kidded.

"Yeah, right," said Quinn. "But I like Mikhail, a lot. And I can't talk to him any better than this girl could. Well, I have my Russian. But that's not much help. But somehow, we still talk."

"Mostly about learning each other's languages," Zander said. "Mikhail can handle English about just getting to know somebody."

"She's an accountant," Oksana said. "I had to explain that on the way back. Though he does know that word now. Still, just a chance to talk, and not in that bar," Oksana said. "And with interpreters around."

"Is a great idea," Zander said.

"I can ask her to bring figures to the house," Oksana said. "She'll probably do it."

"Yeah, and I'll be around, and you, so we can help with a word here and there," Zander said. "Even Quinn can do some of that."

"I can," Quinn said in Russian.

"You know, I knew he'd want an American girl eventually," Zander said. "He's all about becoming American."

"Very determined," Quinn said. "You're right. Tatiana was trying to get him to marry her again. Thinks it could get her a green card. You know, he was telling me about that. So his English isn't prohibitive of conversation."

"He will go live in Siberia before he will marry Tatiana again," Oksana said.

"It won't work anyway," Zander said. "The law does not allow for it." Zander was proud of how much he knew, from working for Alexis and helping with his grandparents' and aunt/uncle/cousin immigration cases. "He has to be a citizen, or it'll take Tatiana many years to qualify. But I wish there was a way. It's the Irina thing that's a problem. If Tatiana could just see that Irina will get so much out of it, and eventually be able to bring her and Ivan over, anyway."

"But she miss out on her teenage years," Oksana said.

It went silent a while. Oksana had missed out on some of that with her own sons. When their father, Sergei, had taken them to live with him in Russia, in violation of the custody order, and later, when Zander had run away.

"In an OK way, though," Zander said. "Irina stays with her every summer and Christmas, Mikhail made that clear. Not like us, where it was illegal and we were completely cut off."

Oksana got up and gave Zander a little hug, grateful that he took their situation in stride without getting upset. Just talked about it without getting mad.

There was a pounding at the door.

"What can this be about?" Quinn exclaimed.

An excited looking Rosa was at the door. "It's Alexis!" Rosa was beaming. "She is going to the hospital!"


	31. Alexis and Jerry's New Son

By the Zander and Quinn got to the hospital, Jaden Jasper Jacks had made his entry into the world.

Eventually his grandparents, his uncle Jasper, his aunt-by-marriage, Oksana, her son Peter, and Rosa were all out in the waiting room. So was Joe Quinn, who had been at the house checking on his ex-wife when the big news came, and Anna and Nikolai, who were only distantly related to Jaden in some unspecified step-sort of way, but were bound to be part of his life, too.

Soon his Cassidine side was represented. His uncles Stavros and Stefan and his cousin Nikolas and his wife Gia came in to see him.

His parents looked down on him with unaffected joy.

"He's the handsomest man on this earth," Alexis said. "Right up there with his father."

Jerry just beamed. He was so amazed by the little bundle, he could not imagine how the world had existed without him before. He gave Alexis a kiss, which must have been the thousandth since they first held their son.

His grandparents held him next, and then the godparents were called in.

"So, the Jacks empire continues," Jax teased, as he and Oksana came into the room. He looked down at the little boy that his father John now held.

"He looks ready to be the Jacks heir," John said.

Jaden gave a small cry.

"See?" John said, and everyone laughed.

Gia held him "for practice" Alexis joked, and when Quinn held him, she got teased about how this was going to inspire her to want to get in on the heir-producing.

"Someday," she glanced at Zander and smiled.

"Yeah," Zander smiled into her eyes. He turned to Jerry and Alexis. "This guy is for practice. You know you always have a babysitter, don't you?"

"They have their pick of dozens," Jacks said. "Never were parents so well supported."

"But the support is from a crazy bunch," Jerry teased.

"Not to mention the Russians," Alexis said, but smiling fondly on those of said descent.

"We're going to teach him to speak Russian," Oksana said, looking down at Jaden, "Aren't we, smart boy? Skazheesh roosky z'kom?" She repeated that a couple of times.

"Why do babies turn adults into mush, in any language?" John Jacks asked.

"Because they're so cute," said Jane. "Like Jerry and Jasper were, once."

"That was a long time ago," Zander teased. "A very long time ago."

"Longer than for you," Jax said. He patted Zander on the head. "You're still cute."

"His kids are going to be adorable," Alexis declared.

"That's for sure," Quinn said.

People were in and out of Alexis' room all day. Sarah Webber came to see her.

"Hey, how's it going?" Alexis asked her.

"He's beautiful," Sarah said, looking at the baby.

"I agree," Alexis laughed.

"Sure you do," Sarah said. "Now you can get in the Jacuzzi at the gym."

"I can do all sorts of things now," Alexis said. "Well, I have heard that a lot of those things involve not sleeping for quite a while. But how are you? Is Duane still in the picture?"

"That's going very well," Sarah said. "He even has asked me – get this, now – to go to the nurse's ball. Imagine that."

"Yeah, wow, this is true love!"

"From him it's such a vote of confidence. You know, I wouldn't have that with ordinary guys."

"Other guys are just ordinary."

"Yeah. I'm cautiously hopeful. The girls know."

"The girls, now listen to you, the motherly one."

"I'll leave that to you for now, anyway. So how does it feel? To have that little guy belong all to you and Jerry?"

"Being responsible for him, too," Alexis said. "I'm so happy. I was getting to that age where I never thought I'd have this. Now he's this mystery boy. It's going to be fun to get to know him."

"Are you going to have a christening or something?"

"Yes. You know, I'll invite you to that. Maybe you can get another public outing."

"Well, thank you, Alexis."

"What are friends for?"


	32. A Second Date

Chad Breyer took Mary Ellen Delaney out to the movies. Afterward, they went to Luke's Bar.

"My dad's in the same business as you are," he said, conversationally, when he brought their drinks back to the table.

"Really, I didn't know that!"

"He works for a paper in Buffalo," Chad said. "Keeps him from home a lot."

"Did that contribute to your parents getting a divorce?"

"Not really. It was mostly when Mom became born again and couldn't convince Dad to do it, too."

"She left him?"

"No, he left her. Said he couldn't stand it any more."

"She bugged him to convert?"

"That, and she puts everything in those terms. You know how people get when they find religion like that? Everything shows the Lord's hand."

"Yeah, I've run into it when I was in college. My family is Catholic and nobody has been born again. What religion is your family?"

"We were ordinary Methodists," Chad said. "Now Mom goes to the Church of the Open Bible."

"Oh, it's not part of a major denomination?"

"No, something about the council of Churches of Christ, I think. I'm not sure when it comes to that. I would call them fundamentalists, though. It sure gets a hold of a person. Almost like heroin. And Dad, well, being a reporter, he is a cynical type. Agnostic. It just wouldn't be natural to him. Then of course, he'd say things to her like how they just want your money."

"And that upset her."

"I wouldn't say upset her, exactly. She doesn't get upset about things. Part of the Christian thing. The fundamentalist Christian thing, that is. You don't get mad. You just keep witnessing about the glory of God's work in your life."

Mary Ellen smiled, since he was. "So what about you, and your brother and sister? Surely she wants you to come to Jesus, too?"

"Oh, yeah, but we're grown up, and there's only so much she can say. She doesn't have enough time to drive us all crazy. Living with her, as Dad was, that was different. She tried to fix my sister up with a minister."

"I can imagine," Mary Ellen said. "What did she think of Taryn dating Toby?"

"We avoid telling her about who we're dating," Chad said. "I don't think she ever heard of Taryn. Dad and Laraine and I were worried about Taryn being underage. Then she finally turns 18, and I saw her kissing Clay, and you know where it went from there!"

"She broke up with Clay. She wants Toby back, from what I understand."

"Are you going to help me protect my brother from that menace?" Chad's eyes twinkled.

"Of course," Mary Ellen said. "I have a heart, you know. And experience exposing that menace to society known as Taryn Polk."

They grinned at each other.

"And you know what?" Mary Ellen said. "More about our nemesis surfaces. My youngest sister's boyfriend used to go out with her!"

"The baseball player at the game we went to? Amazing. Taryn gets around. Guess who is now a waitress at the LU?

"We have to go over and patrol!" Mary Ellen laughed. "What are we doing here at Luke's?"

"Even the Taryn Polk Exposure Society needs a break every once in a while."

They laughed again.

"She's everywhere," Mary Ellen said.

"Hopefully not at the Nurse's Ball," Chad said. "Hey, you want to go to that with me?"

Mary Ellen looked at him. She was pleased. "I would like that," she said.

"OK, it's a date."


	33. Vs Investigation

Detective V. Ardanowski went to court to testify on a case. She took advantage of that location to stop by the offices of Jax Corporation afterward.

No, she had no appointment, she told Rick Friel's secretary, but it shouldn't take long. It was about Amy, she added, hoping that would incline Rick to talk to her.

She was shown into his office. Rick looked mystified, but extended his hand to her.

"Sit down, Detective," he said.

"You can call me V. if you want."

He smiled. "So long as I don't use the actual name."

"Yep," she smiled. "I don't know what my parents were thinking – you know all those jokes about the goddess of love and all."

"Yeah, and all that."

"Amy's a much nicer name. Latin for 'love' right? And speaking of Amy-"

"Did she say something to somebody she shouldn't have?"

"No, no, well, yes, in a way. She invited me in and was showing me your garden and – well, you know. Your weeds."

"Weeds."

"Yeah, weed."

"Oh, weed."

By this time, she was laughing.

"Am I in trouble? You here to arrest me?"

"No, of course not. Amy told me who it was for."

He was silent for a minute. "But the law is the law," he said.

"Just do some weeding, OK, and I really don't have to do anything about going against you."

"Why was Amy showing you the garden?"

"She was talking about how – her mom – always kept it up, and was interested in getting it going again, and I told her I knew something about it – my mother and I always had a garden – and I was going to help and we went over and looked and then – I saw it. She seemed surprised. Like she had forgotten about it and forgot to put that together with me being a detective."

"I'm not so sure," he said.

"She misses her mother. What was her name?"

"Joyce. She does, but she also has other plans going on, too, I think. I'm getting an idea here. But thank you for telling me, V., and not arresting me."

"How is your daughter Amanda?" V. asked.

"Joyce's birthday was last week and that throws Amanda into a funk for about a month. Every year."

"Oh, I know. I'm always sad on my Dad's birthday."

"Amanda did not cry," Rick said. "When Joyce died, not for nearly a year after, on Joyce's birthday. Amy and I get sad on the birthday too, of course, but it's somehow a bigger problem for Amanda."

"She still seeing the guy she went to Jax and Oksana's wedding with?"

"I'm not sure. Probably not. These things never last with Amanda."

"She might need to see a counselor," V. said. "That doesn't sound good at all."

"I never even thought of that," Rick said. "Yet it is such a good idea."

"Maybe mention it to her."

"If you would, I would consider it a great – favor," he said. "Coming from outside her family I think would be more convincing to her."

"Of course," V. said, affected. "I had some counseling myself, and I lost a parent too. Yeah, it will be coming from someone who knows what it's like." She got up. "I won't take up any more of your time. Just do your weeding and we're OK."

"All right," he said, relaxing. "V. – if you see Amy again, tell her to just invite you over for dinner."

"OK," V. said, not sure what was going on. But going to their house for dinner sounded nice. And Amy was the lady of the house now. So maybe that was why she had to do the inviting.

"Amy, your matchmaking needs work," Zander was telling Amy in the kitchen at his mother's house. "You don't want to get your Dad arrested over it." Amy was there to do homework with Amanda and Zander – she had been hanging out with Amanda more, lately – and told Zander about how she got V. Ardanowski to go see her father.

"How could it hurt?" Amy said. "He'll get a slap on the wrist for that. True it would be on his record, but he wouldn't lose his job over it. Jax is too cool to fire someone for that, and V. could convince him not to if he wasn't."

"OK," Zander said. "I can go along with that. Still seems a little risky. She's making friends with you. Nothing more natural than for you to ask her to come over and there you have it."

"You are always so reasonable, Zander," said Amy.

"You ought to be a politician," he answered. "So you've picked out a girl for your Dad."

"Not really. I'm helping along where I think he picked her."

"Why doesn't he ask her out himself?"

"I think he's shy. Has these ideas he hasn't dated in so long, he doesn't know how. And probably thinks he couldn't get her – you know, she is awfully pretty."

"So you are being a big help."

"I am. Now, I will ask her over for dinner one night. To thank her for taking me to work. She showed me all around, like take a daughter to work day. You know about that? We lost our mom, Amanda and I, and V. really understands, because she lost her Dad."

"You think your dad is ready for a girlfriend?"

"Yes, but he doesn't realize it."

Zander laughed. "You are a matchmaker. I think I'll offer you a job in our business. Quinn and I are starting a dating service someday. It's kind of a joke. But I think we could do it. We're really good."

"I only work for the best," Amy said. "When you need me, I'm here. I have my sister to work on, too. She frustrates me. A guy likes her and it always seems to fall off, because she just goes sort of – she just goes sort of blank. Gets down in the dumps and doesn't return calls or gives the guy the impression she is not interested."

"What gets her depressed?"

"Thinking about Mom, especially Mom's birthday. Or my parents' anniversary. Or her birthday, or mine, or Dad's. Christmas."

"I understand."

"You know, Zander, she can't not live her life over it. But sometimes I think that is what she does. Think, like, it could happen to me so why bother? She doesn't want her kids to get left without a mother. We get tested because our mother died of breast cancer, but not everybody whose mother dies of it gets it."

"Sounds like depression, that maybe she needs some real treatment."

"Yes."

"You know, you're the youngest one in this family, but seem to be the most together."

"I am resilient," Amy declared.

Zander smiled at her. She'd obviously heard that before. "Well, you are good to your loved ones who aren't as resilient," he said.


	34. An American Girl

Laraine felt shy about going to the London Underground now. She was nervous about running into Mikhail, he got her all tongue-tied, for one thing, and now that she knew he was Oksana's brother, the whole idea of talking to him got her even more nervous. Then there was all that teasing from both Gia and Chad about her finding a guy who didn't speak English. She could have sworn she'd only been joking when she'd told them how she thought a guy who didn't speak much English would be perfect, because he wouldn't be able to use lines on her or make promises he wouldn't keep or say he had this thing about avoiding commitment.

"You over-think these things," her brother Chad said. "Everybody goes there. Besides, your little brother is in the band."

"You're right," Laraine said. She had every right to go into the London Underground, she thought, rebelliously, as though someone had accused her of chasing the bartender. She'd just try to get someone else to get the drinks. There was a waitress now, too. Though it was dopey Taryn, the dumb girl who ran around on Toby. Sure, she had to get a job at a club Toby played. Where her other boyfriend was one of the bartenders.

Come to think of it, Mikhail was the only one Laraine knew of who could serve drinks at the London Underground and not be offensive to Toby.

"Hey, guys," Toby greeted his brother and sister. He was setting up some sound equipment.

They made some small talk for a while. Laraine told Toby she'd come in with her date one night when another act was playing, and the music wasn't nearly as good.

"Oh, the preacher," said Toby. "Are you going to marry him and make Mom a happy woman?"

Laraine laughed. "He wasn't as stiff as I thought he'd be. I haven't heard from him again. Maybe some other mother is shipping her daughter for his wife."

"Besides, Laraine has someone else in view," Chad said.

"Really?" Toby said.

"He's just teasing me," Laraine said.

Toby went off to check on something.

"I was thinking, Chad," Laraine said. "Quit razzing me about this guy. Where there's a daughter, there is often a wife."

"Nah," Chad said. "Where there's a guy in the park with just the kid and no wife, there's a divorce. Besides, he wouldn't look at you the way he did in front of his sister if he was still married."

"Laraine," said Toby, coming back to them. "Go and ask Mikhail for a bottle of water. Tell him it's for me and he'll give it to you on the house."

"There's Clay," Laraine said.

"Not Clay," Toby said. "Mikhail."

"So this means Taryn has a chance with you?" Laraine said. "If she didn't, you could make peace with Clay."

"I don't know," Toby said. "But I don't want anything from Clay."

"The drama of the London Underground," Chad teased. "I guess that cuts out using the waitress, too. Well, you're stuck with Mikhail, Laraine. Toby, what do you know about Mikhail?"

Laraine rolled her eyes at Chad. He was relentless at teasing her on this for some reason, and he didn't normally do that.

"He's a real good guy," Toby said, oblivious. "He's an immigrant and he's an engineer, but he has to learn English, so he's got the bartender job. And he works really hard at that. His little girl is a figure skater. She's good. Has Sergei for a real coach and everything. Sergei let him work here. Sergei has been divorced from Mikhail's sister and been fighting with her for years."

"Looks like there is some peace being made here," Chad commented. "He's coaching his ex-wife's niece and hiring her brother. And I think Mikhail is probably pretty smart. Well, come on, Laraine, let's go."

Laraine followed Chad, determined that he was going to do all the talking. They sat at the bar.

There was an attractive blonde woman sitting there. When Mikhail came away from giving a couple of beers to a customer, she addressed him in a foreign language, presumably Russian. He answered her in Russian. The conversation didn't sound all that friendly. It sounded like she was sarcastic and he was indifferent.

Mikhail turned and saw Chad and Laraine. His eyes lit in a way that filled Laraine's stomach with a thousand butterflies. She felt like she could not move to get up off the barstool if she had to in order to save her life.

"Sorry," he said to them. "My ex wife. She like to fight."

Chad stepped his foot gently on Laraine's. See, I told you so, his foot said.

"Hey, buddy," Chad said. "That's what ex wives are for, aren't they?"

Mikhail smiled. Laraine couldn't tell if he got the joke.

Chad ordered a beer and "white wine" for Laraine. "That's what she always wants," Chad explained.

Mikhail poured the Chardonnay and gave it to Laraine. She wondered if he could possibly have remembered that particular white wine from the time she had ordered it along with the lemonade. But then, it was a bartender thing to remember that stuff. And the lemonade had stood out for him.

"Oh," she said, suddenly. "We're forgetting Toby," she said to Chad.

"Our little brother, he's the guitarist in the band," Chad explained to Mikhail. "Wants us to get him a bottle of water."

Mikhail reached down and got a bottle of water and set it on the bar. "I'll take it to him," Chad said. Laraine thought about fratricide for a second. She turned and watched him go, wondering if he planned on coming back. He had taken his beer with him.

"Don't your parents come too?" Mikhail asked her. "Yvonne's always do."

"Oh, my dad's a newspaper reporter, and he always seems to have a deadline," Laraine said. "My mother's – she's too religious for a bar."

He nodded. His eyes seemed to look right into her. Like he could read her mind. She wasn't even sure he could understand what she'd said. A recklessness seized her. "Do you think there's a God?" she asked. He was a bartender, after all. People probably asked him all sorts of crazy things.

"I don't know," he said.

"Good answer," she said.

"Your mother has too much religion, you think?"

"Yes," she said, smiling in spite of herself. "She has too much religion."

"I have no religion," he said. "State atheism – communists."

Laraine nodded. "But after the fall of the Soviets, couldn't you practice your religion?"

"Yes," he said. "My family never get interested in the religion again. Some do."

"Oh, boy," Laraine said, "don't talk to my mom. She'll see you as a soul to save. I mean, try to convert you. She wants everyone to convert. She wants everyone to believe in the same God she does. If she thinks you don't, she will try to convince you." Laraine kept adding sentences, since every one she uttered seemed to her to include some phrase he might not understand. She was surprised he had even understood her Soviet question, but he had answered it intelligently.

"Hey, Mikhail, get me an iced tea," said Skye Quartermaine, who was suddenly at the end of the bar.

"Sure," he said. He gave Laraine a smile. Laraine now had leisure to notice that Mikhail's ex-wife was staring her down.

Amused, Laraine stared back for a moment.

Chad came back.

"Thank God you're back," Laraine said.

"Praise the Lord," Chad said, toasting her with his beer.

"You know, you can talk to Mikhail more than you might have thought," Laraine said. "I mean, he can talk about more than just simple things."

"What were you talking about?"

"How he has no religion, because atheism was the state religion and the family never got into the revival after the Soviet Union fell."

"Oh, no, Mom is going to be after Mikhail, Oksana, the whole bunch if she ever finds out about them."

Laraine laughed, relaxing. "Exactly what I said. Let's go listen to the band."

"Leave Mikhail to fight with the ex-wife, eh," Chad teased.

Mikhail refilled Tatiana's drink. "So you think you got a chance with an American girl," she said, taking a sip.

"That's you who has that problem," Mikhail said. "You find your American man yet?"

"Not yet," she said. "But like you said, America is full of American men."


	35. Out for the Evening

Mary Ellen went to meet her sisters after work for dinner at the Outback.

"Congratulations to you, Jerry," Melinda said to the owner. "We saw in the paper about your new baby."

"Thank you," Jerry said, taking them to a booth. "Drinks on the house."

"He's a proud papa," Colleen said, and Jerry grinned and ran off to the next customer coming in.

"I'm beat," said Mary Ellen.

"You look tired, Mellen," Melinda said, invoking an old nickname that had infuriated the child Mary Ellen but was OK as indicating affection to the adult version.

"Everything is sort of tense at the paper," Mary Ellen said. "There's this big deal that Herself – with a capital H - Jackie Templeton is coming back for a while. To do this big puff piece on going back to her roots, where it all began, where she got her start, before becoming an international correspondent."

"You think it'll shake things up somehow, and not in a good way?" asked Colleen, ever the counselor.

"I'm not sure," Mary Ellen said. "I like the way things are at the paper, and so shaking things up doesn't seem necessary, plus it's not normal, I mean, will she take her stories and just do them or will we all have to kowtow to her and miss our own deadlines doing legwork for her?"

"She's a pro," Melinda said. "And she did succeed on a big scale, but that doesn't have to mean she's vain and arrogant."

"Successful reporters," Mary Ellen said, "Wrote the book – or the scoop – on vain and arrogant."

"Still, it's a stereotype, Mary Ellen," Colleen said. "She might be OK. Isn't she the one that married that African guy who got put in prison for printing articles against the government?"

"Yeah, she helped get him out of jail and shame that country's dictator and was the big hero," Mary Ellen said. "Wonder why she doesn't just write a book about it?"

"Maybe that's part of her sabbatical here, and she'll stay out of your hair," said Melinda.

"I hope you're right," Mary Ellen said, as the waitress came to take their order. "You guys always make me feel better."

Meanwhile, Matt Delaney took Patti Polk for a ride on his motorcycle.

Patti had asked Taryn to watch the kids. She felt guilty somehow. Taryn had waved that aside, telling Patti that there was no reason she couldn't go out, too.

"I'll just be an hour," Patti said.

"Take your time," Taryn said.

Matt stopped near the entrance to the state park. There was a high bluff, and from it, there was a view of the Adirondack mountains. It was twilight, and beautiful.

"This is the kind of place you find, riding on motorcycles," Matt said.

"It's gorgeous," Patti said.

He came over to her and put his arms around her. She leaned her head against his chest, just feeling the comforting feeling of someone holding her. It had been a long while since she'd gotten this kind of attention from any man. At times it seemed wrong to complain that he was just too young for her.

"Taryn ought to be the one out with a guy," she muttered.

"Stop the guilt trips, Patti," Matt said. "Taryn was fine with you going out. She's really mature. You're divorced, so you ought to be out with a guy sometimes, too."

His compliment to Taryn's maturity overwhelmed her with a flood of appreciation for him.

"You are perfect for Taryn," Patti went on. "Such a nice guy, and-"

"Taryn just got out of high school," Matt said. "You want to know how I feel about high school girls in general? Taryn's mature. But she's eighteen, right?"

"Well," Patti said. "Maybe someday."

"Maybe not." He pulled her close and kissed her passionately.

His lips were so heated and demanding. Patti responded in an almost purely physical way. It had been a long time for her. Her hands pressed into his back and his broad shoulders seemed so stable and comforting.

"See," he said, releasing her. "You want me, and age doesn't matter. I've thought about it, and it really doesn't matter to me. Maybe you're the older and more mature, but it's not impossible. Look at what's her name, Demi More."

Patti laughed. "That won't work out."

"How do you know? It can. If it doesn't, it because of them being Hollywood people. There are probably more normal people that we've never heard of."

Patti considered. "I don't know any."

"It doesn't have to be common to have a chance to work out."

"I know you're not going to want to hear this," Patti said. "But I have to go slowly. Real slow. My divorce is still pretty new and painful. I have three kids to take care of, and I know you think you know all about kids, but you're a teacher, not a parent."

"I get that," Matt said. "I can do slow. Real slow." He started to massage her upper back. It felt good.

"I don't mean that," Patti said.

"I know," he said, with mock exasperation.

"I have three kids, so other than every other weekend, I can't just pick up and go somewhere or do something," Patti went on. "Which you would be able to do with girls your age."

"I've thought about that," Matt repeated. "And it doesn't matter. I have stuff to do, too. My family is very large, remember? There's always somebody who needs something."

Patti considered this. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to imply you had no responsibilities, just that you ought to be free, at your age, to do whatever you want."

"I do whatever I want," Matt said. "One thing I want is you." He kissed her again, slowly this time.

Patti wondered how long he would "want" her. She didn't feel up to having her heart broken, and not by some twenty-something, either.

But he seemed determined enough. Not flighty. Maybe he'd change his mind tomorrow. But on the other hand, she'd known him for a while now, and he hadn't wavered so far.

"I hope you don't think you're talking your way into bed," Patti said. "Maybe you think as an older woman I can teach you a lot. Well, I can't. I've been with exactly one guy, and he wasn't all that great. And he didn't think I was so great, since he left me for the younger model as soon as he could."

"You were just more committed and responsible," Matt said. "Or maybe you'd have done the same thing. He did it. Now you get your younger model, as you called it."

She started to speak, but he stopped her. "As it happens, I have plenty of confidence on the subject of me in bed and I don't need your instructions. I just like you. I know you do have more life experience than me and I am probably in way over my head, but I just can't seem to get it out of my mind. I've tried it, too. Tried to convince myself that you're too different because of being older. But I can't seem to shake it, so I'd rather try it. I'm only asking you for a fair shot, that's all."

"I don't want to start something that is for certain temporary. I have kids. I'm not up for that just now. At your age this temporary fling may sound good, and maybe it is a good thing for me, but I'm not up for that."

"I'm not purposely trying for the temporary fling. I may be young but that doesn't make me an asshole."

"I'm sorry, really, but can you understand why I would wonder about it?"

"Sure, but you can't always be sure of that no matter what the ages are. You could use me to help get over your ex. I don't think you would or are, but it's my risk, too. And if your husband can make it with a younger person, I don't see why you can't."

"That way around it works out more often."

"For no particularly good reason."

"Sure there's a good reason. How do you have children if you end up spending your youth with an older woman? I have a few years left in me, but I wasn't thinking of it.

"Jax did it," Matt said. "Some things just trump other things. I could handle it if it came to that. I get plenty of time with kids."

Patti smiled. "Yeah, but."

"Little monsters."

She laughed.

"Come on," he said. "I'll take you home to yours."

"How's your love life going?" Melinda asked Mary Ellen, back at the Outback. "Weren't you going to go out with that guy again?"

"Yes, we went out a second time, to the movies," Mary Ellen said. "He's very nice. His dad is a reporter, too, it turns out. At a paper in Buffalo."

"Are you going out with him again?" Colleen asked.

"Yes, to the Nurse's Ball."

"That's nice, whooo, your third date," Colleen said.

"Yeah, so what?"

Colleen laughed. "That's when you're supposed to put out. According to those girlie magazines."

"What is that, some teenaged boys' rule?" Melinda laughed.

"I don't think so," said Mary Ellen.

"I've have clients who have been oppressed by this," Colleen said. "Both male and female."

"Don't tell me they are adults," said Mary Ellen.

"Some are," Colleen said.

"Chad does not seem like he'd expect such a thing," Mary Ellen said.

"Of course not," Melinda said, soothingly.

"There's no way, anyway," Mary Ellen said. "I don't know him well enough yet."

"How do your clients have problems with this so-called rule of thumb?" Melinda asked Colleen.

"Sometimes they don't go on the third date," Colleen said. "What could have been a good relationship stalls because they think that can't go that far that fast."

"If there's going to be a custom," Mary Ellen fumed. "It ought to be more like, like, the 6th or the 9th date."

"Or the 29th," Colleen said. "Most people jump into these things too soon, due to societal pressure. Maybe I'll write my book on it." Colleen had an ambition to write a self-help book. It was still in the idea stage.

"I'm down for that," Mary Ellen said. "Chad hasn't even kissed me yet."

"Do you want him to?" Colleen said.

"I'm not even sure," Mary Ellen said. "It's just been very pleasant and friendly so far."

"You need more time to get to know him," Melinda said. "Well, it sounds like you think he'll give you that time."

"I hope so," Mary Ellen said.


	36. A Little Love and a Little Matchmaking

Skye and Sean were in Sean's apartment. They had been watching a movie on the DVD player. It was a favorite of Skye's and Sean paid attention to it.

"So how come you are being so nice?" she asked him.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You wouldn't unless you want something."

"I want you to move in with me, remember?"

"But if I did, what would happen to your behavior?"

"Oh, you think this is just to get you to move in and then I'll return to my charming self."

"Uh, yeah."

He laughed and put his arm around her. She eyed him warily.

"What?" he said, trying to look serious. "I'll be good," he said. "I am easy to live with. My college and law school roommates have always said so."

"That's different," Skye said.

"I can do things for you that I couldn't do for them," he said, kissing her on the neck.

This was true, Skye thought.

How could a woman know what to do here? It seemed impossible.

She kissed him, experimentally.

"Oh," he said. "So maybe you forgive me?"

"There's a risk," she said.

"Are you willing to take it?"

His honesty never failed to surprise her. "I think, maybe, yes, I am," she answered. She was sure he was a liar, yet she could never pin down when he was doing it. But there were enough times when he was honest and she could know it that it was indeed always in question that he might be this time.

Yet some day he was bound to do something stupid again. But now he was massaging her back. And she was relaxing.

Damn, she thought.

Soon they were in his bed.

Damn, thought Skye. OK, this is just for the sex. I'm using him for the sex. That's all. "Oh," she groaned. "Don't stop what you're doing."

Later, she asked him, "Have you ever lived with a woman before?"

"No," he said. "Just roommates. One time there were three of us and one of them was girl, but that was just being roommates."

"Oh," Skye said. "You've never been engaged?"

"No. I tried once, I asked Quinn and she said no. What about you?"

"I've never been engaged. I've never lived with a guy, of course. I've only lived at my family's house."

"So you think maybe you should be on your own first, rather than living with a guy?"

She looked at him. "Maybe. Or before trying to live with _you_, maybe."

He smiled and cuddled her in the most uncharacteristic way. Skye relaxed for a little while. You couldn't always be suspecting a guy of playing you, she thought. Sometimes you had to just let things take their course.

V. called Amanda and asked her if she wanted to come along for a ride to Buffalo to pick up a painting she had on display. The display was over, and V. needed to get her painting back.

This sounded very benign and unthreatening to Amanda. Curious, she said she'd go. She knew V. had helped out Amy and had been good about the pot plants with her Dad. If V. wanted some company for a car ride, Amanda thought, she'd give it to her.

"I was talking to your Dad the other day," V. said, when they were on the road. V. had picked Amanda up at Amanda's apartment.

"Oh, Amy showed you the garden. I know. I'm sorry she put you in that position. Amy can be a real ornery one sometimes. I'm really grateful about you letting it go. With dad, that is."

"I think Amy forgot," V. said.

"No way," Amanda said. "Amy just wanted you to go talk to Dad."

"Huh?"

"You know, doing a little matchmaking. She thinks Dad likes you."

"Do you?" V. could feel her stomach flipping this way and that, and could hear the tremor in her own voice.

"I wasn't around when Amy was. But once she mentioned it, I could see it. At Oksana's wedding, for example, you guys were dancing and – I'm sorry, V. Maybe you don't want to hear this."

"Your Dad's a grown man," V. said, eyes on the road. "He can talk to whoever he wants."

"He can, but if he's nervous, and he has this thing about how he hasn't dated in forever – he didn't even find Patti on his own! His friend Duane Edwards asked Patti to fix him up and she couldn't figure out who to fix him up with except for her!"

"Patti," V. laughed. "Yeah, she had already fixed me up."

"I think I am getting him to wake up to the idea," Amanda said. "He has this idea that his marriage didn't go bad, it got stronger, to the very end, and so it's not like Duane or Patti, when they are divorced."

"That would be hard. It wasn't like he wanted the marriage to end. And with a divorce, even if you didn't want it, your opinion of your ex has to go down because they wanted the divorce."

"Yeah," Amanda said.

"What about you? Does Amy tend to you as much?"

"She'd do better to pay attention to herself!"

"What about the guy you went to the wedding with? Are you still seeing him?"

"He called once," Amanda said, " I couldn't make it."

"Maybe you can ask him over for dinner," V. said.

"I guess I could."

"If you like him, that is."

"I do, but you know, sometimes, V., I don't expect it to last, so I don't lead him on. That would be wrong, wouldn't it?"

"You've got to be honest with him," V. said, feeling didactic. " But your Dad was telling me about how it was your Mom's birthday. And that has a lot to do with it, I think."

"My mom? What could she have to do with Jackson?"

"It's complicated," V. said. "But I kind of know. I mean, I don't keep relationships going very well, either, so I can't talk. But I did get some counseling once, and I thought it helped. But I know where you're coming from. For me, it was my dad. I would think it terms of why fall in love with someone when he might die and I'll have to go on without him? And my mom was devastated and I could see that."

"Yes, I saw that with Dad. He never talked about it losing his wife. If we mentioned Mom, Dad would retreat. It was scary."

"Seeing your parent collapse. Your only parent. The only one you have left. But can he talk about it now?"

"Yes, and that has made things a lot better for us. Amy is so – well, Amy was always talking about Mom. Sometimes I resented it. Like she was getting over it too fast. I know it's because she's younger, and sometimes I'm afraid it will hit her really hard some day. I've had days where I wasn't thinking about it and then out of the blue it will hit real hard. Somebody says something. I was at Oksana's one when Quinn was there, talking about her mom going with her to pick out her wedding dress."

"And you'll never have that experience. I know. It reminds every time there is something that happens, too. My police academy graduation, for instance. My dad would have been so proud."

After V. picked up her painting, she asked Amanda if she wanted to go back with her to the boxcar for a little while.

Elizabeth was there, and Patti was talking to her.

Elizabeth winked at V. V. knew that meant Patti must have started telling Elizabeth about her problems.

"Doesn't sound like a problem to me," Elizabeth was saying, "Unless you're just really prejudiced because of his age."

"I know, Elizabeth," Patti said. "Don't take it wrong, I mean, you're married, and you're about his age, I don't mean you're not mature. Just that well, it's me. I'm so much older than he."

"But you like him," V. said. They looked up at V. and greeted her. V. introduced Amanda.

"Maybe I shouldn't talk about this," Patti said. "I fixed V. up with him."

"It's OK," V. said. "Matt's all yours."

"Matt told me I got the dates backwards," Patti said. "At least, he thought so, or maybe it was just a line."

"Rick and I caught the bouquet and the garter," V. said, trying to joke about it. "What better sign could there be for you and Matt?"

Patti smiled, but shrugged. "That he was closer to my age might be a better sign."

"Don't we need Sarah in on this?" V. said, still trying to lighten Patti up.

Elizabeth laughed, and kept painting.

V.'s cell phone rang.

"Oh, hi Amy," V. said, looking at Amanda. "Sure, that'd be nice. Friday? OK. That's nice, Amy. I'll see you then." She closed her phone and looked at Amanda. "She invited me over for dinner."

"See, she's still working on getting you in the same room with Dad," Amanda said.

"It's OK," V. said.

"It's quite OK," Elizabeth said, to Amanda.

"I think there is some way in which a younger man is a good thing," said Patti, returning to the subject that was on her mind. "I think he is sincere. It's just that he's young and doesn't realize that he might change his mind. But if he did, I can't feel that it would be as hateful as it was for Kevin to do it. Kevin was a married man with three children, and he should have known better."

"Sarah has the fact that Duane didn't want his divorce," Elizabeth said. "Matt's a mystery. You don't know if he can commit. Like Sarah knows Duane can, that's one of her theme songs."

"And I can't really expect him to, and yet I'm not even sure I can, and then I wonder if I should be involved in something that can't be a good example for my kids. Especially Taryn. She's going to think there is no such thing as commitment. She already had issues with it over Jeremy."

"How about your parents, or other long term couples, you can point to them," V. said helpfully. "Tell Taryn it can work out. Amanda's Dad, for example. He was married to her mom until her mom died. Till death do us part."

"Really good evidence of ability to commit," Elizabeth said. "There's my parents."

"My grandparents, too," Amanda said, helpfully. "If you need another example, that is."

"Thanks, Amanda," Patti said. "There's you too, Elizabeth. I can guilt you into staying with my brother."

"You don't need that," Elizabeth said. "There's Sarah too. Once she makes up her mind to a thing, that's it. I'm sure whoever she marries will stay married to her. He'll have to. He won't know what hit him."

"See, plenty of examples," V. said.

"Thank you, guys," Patti said. "You're the greatest. If you ever need to feel better about something, come to me and I'll make you feel better. You've done it so much for me."

Laraine was in her car, looking for Oksana's house. It was an unusual thing for Oksana to ask someone to bring her something at home. Never happened before, everyone at Deception agreed. They thought Laraine was lucky.

It wasn't a neighborhood Laraine spent a lot of time in. Her parents used to drive she and her brothers through, when they were kids, at Christmastime, to see the decorations on the big houses. But in the area closer to the lake, where Oksana's house was, you couldn't see much in the way of decorations, except of the gatehouses.

Finally she came to the house, as it had been described in the directions Oksana's secretary had given her. The gatehouse looked imposing, but no one stopped her there. The gates were open, so apparently there would be no need to get out and get someone to buzz her in. That somehow seemed odd, like Oksana was very trusting, and rich people really shouldn't be, thought Laraine.

There were several cars parked out in front, off to a side of the main house. They were surprisingly ordinary, though one was a dark-colored Porsche sports car.

A servant-like person answered the door and ushered Laraine into a large room with windows looking to the front. Waiting, Laraine went to one of the windows and looked out. She could see her car and a corner of the gatehouse.

Laraine looked around at the expensive furniture and decorations. In spite of them, the house felt comfortable. She could hear a murmur of voices from the back.

Oksana came into the room and thanked Laraine for coming all the way out to the house with the company financial reports. She said it was a big help to her. She was traveling the next day and didn't have time to stop at the office, and she hated reading these things on computers.

"I'm glad to do it," Laraine said. Oksana could just print them out, couldn't she? Well, maybe she'd be flying and didn't have time to do that at her house. Oksana had this way of respecting her employees that generally had them willing to do anything for her, so Laraine didn't question it more.

"Come back to the kitchen," Oksana said, in a friendly, inviting sort of way. "That's where everyone talks. I don't know why. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Thank you," Laraine said. She followed Oksana down that hall. "That's the study room, the library," she said, pointing at an open door. "We call it school."

In the kitchen, there were four people sitting casually around the table. An elderly Asian lady, Oksana's son, her niece and her brother.

"This is my mother, Anna," Oksana said. "My son Aleksander and you know Mikhail and Irina from the park, remember?"

"Yes," Laraine said, stunned and having a hard time understanding why she was. But Mikhail looked just as shocked as she was, to see her there. And had better reason. Laraine wondered why it didn't occur to her that Mikhail might be in this house.

"Hi," Irina said, in a friendly enough tone. She was drawing something on a piece of paper.

"Hi, Irina," Laraine said, feeling the slightest bit relaxed.

"This is Laraine Breyer, she is one of our accountants, and I ask her to bring me some of the finance statements," Oksana told them.

"Asked," Irina corrected.

"Nice to meet you," Oksana's son stood up and shook her hand. "I'm Zander."

Oksana went looking in the refrigerator and asked Laraine if she wanted a coke. "Yes, thank you," said Laraine, unable to think about anything so complicated as picking out a beverage.

Oksana's mother moved and patted the bench beside her, as a way of asking her to sit down. Laraine smiled at her and sat down.

Mikhail was then sitting across from Laraine, pretty much still staring at her. This is getting to be routine, Laraine thought. Whoever gets talked to first gets to recover first.

At the London Underground, he and Clay wore white shirts with black vests and bow ties. Supposedly, that made them look English. She couldn't remember what he wore in the park, she could only remember his eyes. Here, somehow, she had a chance to look more and saw he had on blue jeans and a white wife-beater T-shirt and he only looked about ten times more attractive than before, in that.

Laraine felt severely outclassed for a moment and certain that at least three hundred single women a week must parade through the London Underground. She decided she was going to get this guy out of her head. He couldn't speak much English, anyway.

Then she caught his eye and that resolution dissolved as quickly as she had made it.

Oksana handed Laraine the coke with a touch of a smile that had Laraine suspecting that Oksana might have set her up. It was ridiculous and Laraine felt guilty yet at the same time there was something pretty good about Oksana doing that, if she had.

"Pretty girl," said Anna, kindly.

Laraine smiled at her. "Thank you," she said.

"Dances on Tables," Mikhail said.

Laraine stared. Of course. He worked there. She blushed and felt embarrassed all over again just from being able to feel she was blushing.

"Sounds like a native American name," Zander commented. "You know, like Dances with Wolves." He turned to Mikhail and said something in Russian, presumably explaining what he had just said.

"I wasn't even drunk when I did that," Laraine said. "I was just feeling – very good, because two friends from work were being so nice to me, bringing me there because they knew I had a rough day with the IRS agent – tax man," she added, feeling that phrase might be better for Mikhail.

"Mom said the IRS was there," Zander said. "She's had that happen before with her other businesses. So did my dad. They used to get flustered but eventually they didn't think it was a big deal."

Laraine smiled at Zander. She was really grateful to him for the way he kept the conversation going comfortably.

"There," Irina said, showing Zander the paper she had been drawing on. "That's me, and that's Mom, and that's the immigration guy."

"It's lucky your Mom lives in America, too," Laraine said.

"Tatiana's just visiting," Zander said. "She has to go back after September 29 or she's an illegal alien."

"Oh, that's too bad," Laraine said. "Isn't there some way to get them to let her stay?"

"Unfortunately, nothing right now," Zander said. "It takes years for it to be a person's turn for a green card. Mikhail wound up waiting since even before Irina was born."

"Imagine that," Laraine said to Irina. "You had a green card before you were born."

"More or less," Zander said. "Or the right to one when she was older and the waiting period was up."

"I guess you guys know a lot about that stuff, having had to deal with it," Laraine said. "Have you ever gone to another country, besides the US or Russia?"

Zander looked like he was going to answer that, but then said, "Let me see if uncle can understand that question and answer it."

"Sure," Laraine said.

"Say it again?" Mikhail asked her.

Laraine said it again, rephrasing it a little to simplify it. For a second she thought he didn't understand it. She was about to say something else, when he said, "I understand." It was the answer, or coming up with the words of it, that slowed him down. He looked at Zander and said something in Russian, and "India," and Zander repeated, "India."

"I go to India, work," he said to Laraine. "I went to India."

"For work," Zander said. "Gazprom and its oil pipelines."

"What's Gazprom?" Laraine asked, looking at Zander. No way could Mikhail answer that.

"Russian oil company," said Mikhail.

"That was your employer?" Laraine looked at him, surprised that he could answer, after all.

"No, my company have – had – deal with them."

"A deal," Zander said. He looked at Laraine. "No articles in Russian," he explained.

"They aren't really necessary," Laraine said. "Deal, a deal. No big deal."

Mikhail laughed. Laraine felt witty.

"I feel bad for your mom – grandmom," Laraine said. "She doesn't seem to understand us."

Anna patted Laraine on the arm. "Is OK," she said.

What a nice lady, Laraine thought.

"Mikhail learn English, better," Anna said. "Irina really good."

"Yes," Laraine said. "I think I can't pronounce your name," she said to Mikhail.

"Americans always just say it with a plain English 'h,'" Zander said. "They don't get the Russian letter 'ha.'"

"This is America," Mikhail said. "Don't have to say it right – pronounce how you want."

"I'd be doing it wrong if I were standing in Red Square saying it," Laraine said.

Mikhail smiled. Zander did too.

"It's Michael, right?" Laraine said. "That ha letter sounds like a 'k.' How come we don't at least get that in there?"

"I don't know," Zander said. "It must be just not natural to English. The ha is not the same as a 'k' either. Sometimes the bar customers, the regulars, call him 'Mick.'"

Mikhail smiled, remembering that.

"I'm not going to call him that," Laraine declared.

"You can," Mikhail said. "Take me a long time to get yours right."

"It's OK," Laraine said. "You could say Lane. My mother has the same name, but she's called Lane."

"Nah, you don't want people calling you by your mother's name," Zander said.

"Probably not," Laraine agreed. "My brothers sometimes just say 'rain.'"

"That's a good short cut," Zander said. "Get that down, uncle, and then when you have that build on it."

"Easier than Dances on Tables, too," Laraine said. She turned to Zander. "You call your uncle just uncle, rather than Uncle Mikhail."

"That's a carryover from Russian," Zander said. "The custom there is you just call them aunt and uncle, alone, like mom and dad or grandpa or grandma. But he always wants to go the American way. I'll start doing that. Uncle Mick."

"OK," Mikhail said.

"How about your cousins?" Laraine asked. "Cousin Irina? Just cousin?"

"Not always, but sometimes, yeah, sometimes I just call her cousin. Sort of like people calling each other bro or sis."

"Yeah, we do that in English," Laraine said. "We have plenty in common." She looked from Zander to Mikhail. Mikhail was looking at her. Of course he was.


	37. Nurses' Ball

V. went over to the Friels' house for dinner Friday, as Amy had asked her. She brought them a bottle of Merlot.

It was nice, with Amy and Amanda sitting there, it was easy to keep the conversation going. V. felt like she was being let in on something, somehow, when the Friels talked to each other.

V. complimented the dinner and asked who was the cook.

"Dad," Amy said. "I was going to do it, but he took it into his own hands."

"Amy's not bad," Rick said, taking a sip of the wine, "for ordinary occasions."

"I'm sure she's good for any occasion," V. said, smiling. "But thank you."

"Now that school is over for the year," Rick said. "Amy will have to be doing something for the summer. A summer job, or camp, or lessons of some kind."

"Well, how about cooking lessons?" Amy asked. "Or drawing. V. could do that, couldn't you V.?"

"V. might not have time for that," Rick said. "Cooking does sound like a good idea, though."

"I have time," V. said. "For an interested student."

"I doubt she has talent," Amanda commented. "Amy, that is."

"You don't need talent," V. said. "Anyone can learn to draw."

"Like they say about singing?" Rick asked.

"Yes. You may not end up being Vincent Van Gogh. But it is a good skill to know something about."

"I'll do both," Amy said. "So you don't have to worry about me wasting time this summer, Dad."

"And tennis camp," he said.

"And volleyball?" Amy said. "Don't forget that."

"Sure, OK," said Rick.

"Are you still working for Oksana, Amanda?" V. asked. "How is Zander doing?"

"Great," Amanda said. "Zander's getting out on his own. But Oksana still hired me full time to teach English to her relatives. I'm a professional tutor of Russians."

"That sounds interesting," V. said.

"And one Korean," Amanda said. "Zander's helping me."

"You must be really proud of his accomplishments," V. said.

"Oh, she is," said Amy. "We never hear the end of it. Fortunately for me, I like Zander, or I'd hate him from hearing about how great he's doing."

Later, Amy and Amanda did the dishes. V. sat with Rick in the living room.

"You've got two wonderful daughters, there," V. said.

"Thank you," he said. "I bet your mother's proud of you, too."

"I'll fix you up with her some time," V. said, grinning. "You and she are in the same boat. Never mind she's quite a bit older than you are."

"That's nice of you," he said, smiling back. "I was thinking, you know, before you have time for this, the nurse's ball is coming up, and I thought, maybe, I was wondering if you'd want to go. With me, that is. Kind of sub for your mother."

"I'd love to," V. said, simply.

"Oh," Rick said. "OK."

Back at the opening to the kitchen, the eavesdropping Amy pumped her fist.

Amanda rinsed off a dish and put it in the dishwasher. "You think he asked her?" Amanda said.

"Yeah, I heard, along with some weird stuff about her mom."

"Weird stuff?"

"I think she's teasing him," Amy said.

"Is that bad?"

"No," Amy said. "I think it's just what he needs."

When Sarah walked in to the Nurse's Ball with Duane, she asked him: "Could I take your arm?" Her eyes were sparkling; her lips were curved into the slightest smile. She was gorgeous in a royal blue evening gown.

"Of course," he said, and took her hand.

Sarah felt happy, walking hand in hand with him into a public place.

"There are my folks," she said. "Want to get it over with, or save it for later?"

"Whatever you want to do," he said. "Save it for later, so you won't think I'm dreading it."

"I understand it making you nervous. You won't see how nice they are until you meet them, but before, you don't know for sure. I was nervous about talking to Valerie and Yvonne, and I'd be nervous to talk to your parents."

"Yeah, that thought makes me nervous, too" he admitted.

Sarah just smiled and touched his arm with her free hand. "It will be all right," she said.

Jeff and Jennifer saw Sarah and came over on their own, making any further planning unnecessary.

Sarah introduced him to them.

"It's nice to meet you again," said Jeff, in a friendly way. "Or at least, I met you over the phone when I was looking for a lawyer for Sarah."

They were gracious and friendly to him. He hadn't expected that.

"See, that wasn't so bad," Sarah said, as they walked away.

"No," Duane said. "I'd think they'd be a little more doubtful. You must have talked them into it."

"Yeah, maybe I did."

"You could talk anybody into anything."

"I must be learning that from you," she said.

Later, they had a talk with Paul and Elizabeth. Duane felt like Paul was analysing him. Doubtless he had heard all of Elizabeth's opinion. Of course, Elizabeth was staring him down. "Nice of you to show," she said. Duane felt Sarah squeeze his arm.

"I thought you'd like it," he said to Elizabeth.

Tim Connor was the hit of the Nurse's ball, with his solo acoustic guitar spot. Then his sister Quinn and another nurse, Joanna came out and joined him for some folk songs.

Chad and Mary Ellen were dancing.

"Jackie Templeton came," Mary Ellen told him. "The whole office is in an uproar."

"I think Dad knows her from high school."

"They're both journalists. They should get together."

"I'll tell him that she is in town. You don't mind?"

"Oh, of course not. If he reads the Port Charles Gazette, he'll find out anyway. The whole town should know by now."

At the door, he kissed her good night.

She smiled, lingering in his arms. "Thanks for not trying to get me into bed tonight," she said.

"Now why would I do that?" he asked.

"My sister the counsellor told me how some of her patients complained that guys they dated said the rule was you had sex on the third date."

"That's crazy," Chad said. Mary Ellen felt relieved that he felt that way. "I'll tell you what. Wait until our 25th date."

Mary Ellen laughed. "That far, huh?"

"Yeah, by then it'll be a matter of resisting temptation – even being able to hold out. You'll never have to feel rushed."

"That's sweet," she said.

"Then if it's getting close and you still don't feel like it, it can be put off further," he said. "It's not a required deadline."

She reached up and kissed him on the cheek. "You know, you're really a good guy," she said. "It just may be hard to hold out that long."

Sean and Skye went back to his apartment after the Nurse's Ball.

"If you had your own place," Sean observed. "I could take you there."

"Then why don't you take me to my parents' now?"

Sean laughed and kissed her neck. "If you lived here with me, you'd be home now."

"I'm here."

"Right where you belong," he said.

"Can the lines," Skye said. "You don't need them. Just shut up and take me to bed."

"She always loves for me to shut up," Sean said, to the ceiling. "You'd think she didn't appreciate my wit and wisdom."

Skye laughed and reached up and kissed him. That usually shut him up.

Rick took V. home. "A great time," V. said. "The Nurse's Ball always is."

"The Nurses' Ball is always interesting," he said. "Your friend Jax looked happy to see you."

"Old times," V. said. "I've gone with him. I think he is really happy I have dates for things. Now that he isn't around to be the fallback. He no longer needs one, but I still do!"

"Well," Rick said, nervously. "There's always Patti."

A smile lit V.'s face. "And Amy," she said. "I can reassure my friend Jax that I am well taken care of."

"About Amy," Rick said.

"Yes?"

"That was – Amy helping. It's not Amy's idea. It's Amy helping me with my idea I might be too – shy to carry out."

V. smiled at him, brilliantly. "I thought we went to placate Amy." But she looked pleased at the idea that he hadn't.

"No," he said. "Amy just didn't let me – fail to do it."

"You raised an amazing young woman," V. said. "And on your own, in tough circumstances."

"Thank you," he said. He took her hand, looked at it, but then kissed her lightly on the forehead. "Thank you for going with me," he said.


	38. The Workaday World

Lane Charleson, a librarian at the Port Charles Public Library, was on the phone telling people that the books they had on hold were in, in between checking people and their books out.

She checked out books herself when she thought they might be of interest to her children.

Her older two children had good careers, but her youngest, Toby, worried her. He was in college and majoring in art, which was useless. He played guitar so beautifully when he wanted to, but wasted that talent in a horrid, loud, rock and roll band that a very unfortunate girl name Yvonne Edwards had put together. Lane considered Yvonne unfortunate because: her parents had been divorced, did nothing to stop her from screeching in public as the lead singer of this terrible band, called, appropriately enough, the Dissentors, and seemed to be completely estranged from the Lord Jesus Christ.

Toby would not listen to Lane, either. "Aw, cut it out Mom," was all he said whenever Lane tried to interest him in a computer science or business major or whenever she tried to preach to him the great message of salvation. But she checked out books for him on figuring out who you were and what your career was supposed to be. He took them and returned them to the library later, when she wasn't there. Lane prayed he would find the right career.

Her son Chad was an engineer, doing fine at McKinley Engineering. Lane prayed that he would meet and marry a wonderful Christian girl some day.

Her eldest, her daughter Laraine, was an accountant with a good job, but it was at a modelling agency, and Lane thought she should try for a job at one of the bigger companies, like ELQ or Jax or Alter Corporation, but Laraine liked her company, Deception. Lane got books on self esteem and meeting your one true love for Laraine. Lane was glad her daughter liked her job, but prayed that her daughter discontinue her bad habit of looking at a husband and children as maybes.

Kathleen Connor and her son Brad came to the desk. Kathleen was a teacher, Lane knew, and had often brought her children to the library throughout the years. Now she had only her youngest, Brad, with her. The others had grown up. Lane generally exchanged a little gossip with Kathleen, and so knew that Kathleen's eldest daughter Quinn was a nurse, and married, and her second son just graduated from high school.

Amanda Friel came in later. She was a tutor for the wealthy woman who was an owner of Laraine's employer. Amanda had come in often with that owner's son, a sweet-looking, dark-haired young man, fairly regularly. More recently, Amanda brought a young girl and another dark and handsome man whose presence did not make sense, because he looked too old to be Amanda's student, and between them all, they checked out books that the young girl could read, though some of the subjects were not perhaps what one would expect a young girl to be interested in. He was shy, because he rarely said anything.

Every once in a while, Lane's husband (legally her ex-husband), Kent Breyer, came into the library to look something up for an article he was writing. He was a journalist, and she had first met him in that very same place, when he was doing the very same thing. They had met often in the library during their marriage. He still came in, though he usually studiously ignored Lane or scowled at her.

Lane prayed every day for Kent. Her one true love. Lane was sure God would guide him.

"I felt like I was really having a conversation with Zander," Laraine was telling Gia and Cheryl. They were on lunch break from work, at Kelly's. "But I came away feeling like I knew Mikhail a lot better. I talked to Zander but learned little about Zander."

"I can't get convinced Oksana didn't do it on purpose," Gia said. "Another sign from God. Oksana approves."

"Meant to be," Cheryl added. "You know something? This works. Normally, you date a guy, you only know what he tells you. I like the way he fits into your world as it already is. Knowing he is Oksana's brother, that the same people who raised Oksana raised him, and you know a lot about him already. Zander loves him, obviously. That means a lot. Really, this could work out."

Cheryl had once dated Zander, a long time ago. She still liked him as a friend.

"Yeah, couple of the century," said Laraine. "We're at the stage where maybe we can pronounce each other's names. We have nothing in common. The wedding will be in the year 2050."

"You don't need perfect pronunciation to get through that ceremony," Gia grinned. "I was tripping all over the words in my native language."

"Maybe we can have ours in Russian," joked Laraine. "But let's shut up about this. Even just kidding, it's a jinx."

"No," Cheryl said. "And I'm thinking. You have Oksana in common. That kind of thing counts, too. This can work." Cheryl grinned. "Can I be a maid of honor?"

"The fastest way to scare a guy away," Laraine protested. "And he might not get that we're joking if he heard us, God forbid. Don't joke around like this at the London Underground."

"He won't understand us," Gia pointed out. "Isn't that his great virtue?"

Laraine laughed. "Maybe there is a God," she said. "My mother would flip."

Colleen Delaney had two appointments one afternoon. She put on some coffee, in case the patients wanted some.

Colleen was a licensed social worker in a clinic downtown. She had always wanted to help people and found this to be the way that best fitted her personality. She wore a flowered skirt and sandals, and a dark blue matching top that fit her loosely. She wore her blonde hair up in a bun. Though she was single, she was the epitome of motherliness, to look at her. Her personality reflected this, too. She was fourth in family of nine, and had been the most eager when it came to helping her mother look after little brothers and sisters.

Her first client was another one of Colleen's lawyer sister Melinda's many recommendations; Patricia Polk, who was going through a divorce.

Nothing increased the counseling business like divorce, Colleen thought. Divorce was a terrible thing. It blocked people from dealing with their deeper issues when the surface ones became so pressing. Perhaps that was why Colleen was more than hesitant when it came to marriage. She couldn't keep dating any guy if she realized his underlying issues were going to be blocking him for several years. And that was a frequent thing with men these days.

Patti Polk was full of her ex-husband. He had come to the door to pick up the children for visitation with his new girlfriend.

That was very common, in Colleen's experience.

"I felt like he was trying to hurt me," Patti said. "Yet deep down, I knew he wasn't. He was just thinking of his own convenience. He just thinks of himself."

"That's very insightful, Patti," Colleen said. "I have run into this often and usually there is some feeling that the ex is trying to be deliberately hurtful."

"Yes, well, I feel he might do that, but only if it were to get him something, somehow," Patti said.

"Do you trust him with the children?"

"In basic things, yes, but not in emotional. His example is just terrible. My daughter is 18 and this is what she learns about men! It's bound to affect her, and make it harder for her to trust."

"What about you? Doesn't it make it harder for you to trust?"

"Definitely. After all those years? There is no way to know now, no way to believe it won't come apart at any minute. And yet I don't want my daughter Taryn to think that."

"But why not, if you think it is reality?"

Patti thought for a minute. "I guess I still think that it could go right for her."

"But you? What if you found another guy?"

"I don't think I'd ever trust him to stay forever."

"So he wouldn't be a permanent part of your family?"

"He could only be potentially permanent. Always. The kids would have to come first."

"Because they are kids or because you only look on them as permanent?"

"I guess it is reality in our society that once you have children, you will always be their mother, but your husband could always leave you."

"Or you leave him."

"Yes," Patti said. "I don't think I would do that, though. I wanted to keep to my commitment. But what can you do if the other person does not?"

"Society does not support you."

"Right. Even if he says he will, he can always change his mind."

"He could think that about you."

"Yes," Patti said. "Now, no one can know." Patti was starting to feel depressed. "At least I'm no worse off than anyone else," she said. "I have dated a man. It surprised me. I thought it would be years before I could do it. But he is persistent."

"Do you like him?" Colleen asked.

"Yes, but there's a problem."

"What's that?"

"He's way younger."

"How is it a problem?"

"It isn't when I'm talking to him. It probably wouldn't be for the kids. But Kevin will try to make something of it if he sees he needs an advantage. Kevin has a younger woman. So he'll say I'm just doing it to get back at him. Or he'll have a double standard. You know, the gander can do what the goose can't."

"Yeah," Colleen said.

"Oh, goodness," Patti said. "I don't know how to tell you this."

"What?"

"There's so many of you."

"So many of us?"

"Delaneys. I think you're related to my younger man. Is that a conflict or something?"

"Could be. It depends on how all three of us feel about it."

"I know you have a lot of brothers, but this might be too uncomfortable for you."

"I've been the family counselor for years," Colleen said. "So it would be up to you. You might like to talk to me anyway, if you have issues concerning him. And another counselor. Some ways I can be more helpful than someone who doesn't know him. If you feel like you can't talk freely, that's the key. I'm don't talk to anyone else outside this room, and that includes my brothers, but if one of them starts telling me about this older woman and there's a problem, then we have to all three talk together or we need a new counselor for you."

"OK," Patti said, amazed at how calm and professional Colleen could be about this.

"We can do it now, if you want," Colleen said. "My colleagues are all wonderful."

"I don't think – I think I'll stick with you for now," Patti said. "It would be silly to change if nothing comes of this relationship. It has that one strike against it already."

"Well, generalized rules aren't always fitting," Colleen said. "Each relationship should be considered on its own. If you have a good relationship, that's better than a bad one with someone your age."

"That's very objective," said Patti. "I feel like a hypocrite, just a bit, since most of my complaining about Kevin relates to him leaving me for a younger woman."

"If he left you for a woman your age, would it feel different?"

"I think it might," Patti said. "It would be a kick in the teeth, but it wouldn't have that extra edge, you know, that I'm older and can't be young again."

"Kevin can't either," Colleen said. "Keep that in mind. And he left you for her. In your case, it doesn't involve cheating on your spouse."

Colleen wondered if she could manage to have a practice in Port Charles, after today. Her very next client had a brother issue, too.

Amanda Friel had been recommended to Colleen, but as soon as Amanda came in and saw her name, she realized that Colleen was Jackson Delaney's sister. Amanda had known Jack for a while and had even gone as his date to a wedding.

"Come in anyway, and we'll have a chat, at least," Colleen said to Amanda.

Amanda said her issue was dealing with her mother's death, but part of that was that she didn't get involved with relationships very well.

"Well, OK, that doesn't involve Jackson specifically," Colleen said. "If you are comfortable with it, I am. If you get more involved with him, it could get tricky, but then we can just refer you out, or bring him in on it."

"So you've done counseling of your own brothers and sisters?"

"Yes, at first they were my initial clients and practice guinea pigs," Colleen said, grinning. "It's why they are all so emotionally healthy."

Amanda smiled, and said, "Then you have confidence in your abilities!"

"I hope so. But a counselor in the family is a good thing. Especially a huge one."

"My younger sister, Amy, is in Matt's class," Amanda said, of yet another of Colleen's brothers. "He gave her this great assignment one time. She said something and he picked up on it and made her back up her words."

"He's a great teacher if I say so myself," Colleen said.

Patti took Tony and Dasha to the public library. She wanted them to read books over the summer. This was not a problem for Tony. He liked reading. Dasha was a little more difficult when it came to reading, but Patti hoped it might improve.

"Hi, Lane," Patti said, to the librarian as they checked out. When Patti was a little girl, Lane had babysat for her and her brother Paul.

"Patti Whitman," said Lane. "That is, Patti-"

"Polk," Patti said. "How come you are using your maiden name? Your name plate says Charleson."

"I got divorced," Lane said, sadly.

"Me too," said Patti. "I hadn't even gotten around to thinking about that."

"I decided it was best," Lane said. "To start over."

"Yes," Patti said. "I think I'll just keep it Polk – it will match the kids."

"They're still in school, so that will be helpful," Lane said. "Mine are all out of school."

"Yes, Toby is in that band, right? My daughter dated him for a while."

"Oh, Toby never tells me about his life. You have an older daughter?" Obviously Dasha was not dating yet.

"Yes, she's eighteen," Patti said. "Just graduated from Mercy High."

"Praise the Lord, you must be so proud," Lane said.

"Very," Patti said. "She has grown into quite a young woman. How about your daughter?"

They talked about Laraine the accountant for a little while. Laraine still wasn't married. She was two years short of thirty, Lane lamented. Patti said someone was sure to show up eventually, feeling hypocritical after all she had said to Colleen earlier that day.

"Since you're divorced like I am," Patti said. "Don't you ever wonder? You know, should your daughter get married? It doesn't always work out. It just makes me more anxious."

"Oh, no," Lane said. "I pray for the right man to come along and I'm sure the Lord will bless me with a good son-in-law. Good daughters-in-law, too."

"Oh, yes," Patti said. "I think that, too."

"Why does that lady talk about God so much?" Tony asked Patti, when they were out in the parking lot.

"She must be grateful for everything she has," Patti said. "And be extra aware of it." She hugged Tony, then Dasha. "And I am too. I'm going to light a candle to some saint tonight to prove it."

The children laughed as they climbed into the car.


	39. The LessChristian Breyers

Kent Breyer took his three grown children out to dinner at the Outback one Sunday.

Chad was dating a girl who was a reporter for the _Port Charles Gazette_. This girl, Mary Ellen Delaney, said Jackie Templeton was coming back into town.

Kent was a reporter for a Buffalo paper. Jackie was a famous international correspondent. They had gone to high school together. Kent was curious to talk to her. He remembered her as friendly. Maybe she wouldn't be too vain about her bigger success.

Toby was as usual; the band had recently had a gig in Buffalo. Kent had not had the chance to go. It frustrated him, but he needed to do his job. The band still played a lot at the relatively new Port Charles Club, the London Underground.

Laraine had endured an IRS audit at work. Kent smiled. "You've been through the worst early," he said.

"My boss' son was telling me how it gets less intimidating. At least, that's his observation of his parents. He has no experience with it himself."

"How do you come to talk to her son? Does he work at Deception, too?"

"No, the bartender at the London Underground is her boss' brother," Chad said. "And she went over to the house to talk to him."

"No, Oksana called me over the house to bring her some figures and I ran into him and her son."

"Wait, I'm still trying to connect the dots here," Kent said, starting to laugh.

"It's crazy, Dad," Laraine said. "A guy who hardly spoke English came to make a delivery at Deception and I was telling my friends how that might make for a good relationship because you can't get into things too much. You know, over-talk things."

"This sounds good," Kent grinned.

"Then out of the blue I went to get a drink for myself and my date the preacher," Laraine said.

"Mom's idea," said Chad.

"Of course," Kent said.

"I ordered lemonade for the preacher, and it turned out, that confused the bartender. Because he was a recent immigrant who doesn't have a complete grasp of the English language."

"But he wants to learn," Chad put in, thinking of his father's somewhat conservative tendencies. "He is dead set on learning. Then Laraine and I were in the park, and it turned out Oksana was in the park with her brother, too, and that happens to be this same bartender."

"Somehow Oksana got his immigration papers for him from Russia," Laraine said. "She is an immigrant too. But from many years ago. It takes years to get your brother over. It's not as instantaneous as people make it seem."

"Russian men are really sexist," Kent said. "You'd hate that, Laraine."

"I don't see any symptoms of that," Laraine said. Her father thought he knew everything. He must have heard that from some woman journalist who'd had an affair abroad, or something. They were all hardened and cynical. "But that's because I can't talk to him that well. I think that was my original idea. A stupid joke, I know. If he's sexist, he can't order me around. I just pretend not to understand him."

Her father and brothers had a good laugh over that one.

"Don't mess with his head, Laraine," Toby said, suddenly contributing to the conversation. "He's a good guy. He doesn't deserve you messing with him."

"Now Toby," Chad said. "It's not like that."

Laraine felt sad in an instant. "I think this is not about Mikhail, but about Toby, Chad," she said.

"Oh, Taryn messing with his head," Chad said, understanding.

"He's not a sexist," said Toby, as if he hadn't heard them. "He has a daughter."

"Divorced," Chad added in. Laraine could have hugged Chad for helping her so much in this conversation. It was as if he anticipated their father's next question and got the answer out of the way as quickly as possible.

"And he does everything he does for that daughter," Toby went on. "He could still be an engineer in Russia. He had a good job there. But his sister talked him into coming, because of the opportunities for the daughter."

"She's eleven," Laraine added, to Kent. "How do you know all this, Toby?" she asked. "You have the same language issues I do."

"He just doesn't turn into a zombie the minute Mikhail looks at him," Chad teased her. "So he gets more out of the conversation."

"I just pick it up, over time," Toby said. "From him or from other people. Sometimes his nephew is there, or his nephew's wife, or his sister and new brother-in-law, or Sergei says something – Sergei can be an interpreter. At first Clay or Skye called Sergei in now and then to get something through to Mikhail."

"Sounds like a decent guy, on paper," Kent said. "Just how bad is his English?"

"It's just not completely fluent," Chad said. "He can hold a conversation."

"I won't mess with his head, Toby," Laraine said. "If you like him so much, I swear, I won't. I thought it was OK, because he is so good looking – usually that means a guy has a lot of experience with women, and that means he's in control."

"Maybe," Toby said. "He doesn't seem to have the upper hand with Tatiana."

"Ta_tia_na?" Kent almost laughed.

"I know I shouldn't pry on this, but I'm dead curious," Laraine said. "Is he really over this Tatiana person?"

"I think so," Chad said. "He's got to be."

"I don't think he's still crazy about her," Toby said. "She's just there a lot, and when you hear them talking in Russian, she just seems to cut him off or mock what he's saying."

"Interesting," Kent said. "You don't understand what they're saying, so maybe that means you can get more of the feeling behind it."

"Tatiana's going to have to go anyway," Laraine said, waving her hand as if to dismiss Tatiana as already deported. "Zander told me her visa runs out in September."

"One way to void the competition," Kent teased her. "But what does your mother think of this?"

"She doesn't know. She just wants me to date Pastor Quackenbush."

"Good God," said Kent.

"Praise the Lord," said Chad. "Mom is praying for Laraine and Pastor Quackenbush, but God never answers her prayers and just puts this Russian in Laraine's path."

"Yeah, if God is in on this," Laraine joked. "He favors Mikhail."

"A handsome man?" Kent said. "I can tell you what your mother thinks. That it is the devil's temptation."

"What could be clearer?" Chad said. "The light – the man of God, the Pastor – versus the Dark, Russian, godless communist."

"Exactly," Laraine said. "But fodder for conversion, too, don't you think? It's got to be easier when it's someone with no religion than with someone who is devoted to another religion."

They laughed again, bonded over their common problem.

"Mom was telling me the other day about this girl younger than I am who is a nurse, who is married," Laraine said. "That girl's mother was telling Mom about her at the library."

"Implying that you were remiss in not being married yet," Kent said.

"You got it," Laraine said. "Why doesn't she bother Chad?"

"Sexism," Kent said. "Those fundamentalists always are. And the women are worse than the men."

"So you're not a sexist, Dad," Chad said. "Why is that? You're pretty conservative on other stuff."

"I have a daughter," Kent said.

"Thanks, Dad," Laraine said. "So I guess you're going to give Mikhail some space on that? Being as he has a daughter and all that, too."

Kent laughed. "Sure, 'Raine," he said. "I'll give him a total pass. And you'll need that from me should it come to it."

"I know, Dad," Laraine said. They all knew her mother was going to blow a gasket, in her own way, should it come to it. She wouldn't yell or argue. She would just patiently explain the will of God.


	40. Going to the Next Level

Tim and Diana had a plan to go on vacation. Together, alone. Diana had saved up money for it; and Tim had graduation money.

They decided on going to a cabin in New Hampshire, where they could do some hiking.

Diana wasn't sure Tim's family was going to go along with his idea of vacationing with Diana alone, moving into an apartment with her, and getting a job rather than going to Port Charles University right away.

Tim tried to get her to relax. "They call PCU a glorified high school, anyway," Tim said. "I already told them I'd rather get out into the real world and work for a while. Then I can afford to go to GHS on my own. I've known of people who did it. I don't even know what I want to do that involves a college degree, so starting at GHS is a waste of time anyway."

Diana had heard these arguments and believed them, but didn't have confidence that Danny and Kathleen would, even if Tim knew them better and did. For one thing, it was only Danny who called PCU "GHS" and no matter what he called it, he had graduated from it himself. And so had Kathleen.

"Even if they don't like it, Di," Tim said. "They'll eventually work with me on this."

"OK," Diana said. "Let's see how they go for the vacation."

Branwyn and Kara sat, nervously, in the waiting area of the hospital.

"I've never had this type of exam before," Branwyn said.

"Duh," said Kara. "Me, neither."

"Does it hurt?" Branwyn considered. "It must not be that bad."

"How do you know?"

"I would have heard my sisters complaining about it."

"Yeah. All those older sisters you have."

Branwyn smiled and patted Kara on the back. "You're going to be that for Alannah, Ruth, Maeve and Irene," she said. These were Kara's younger sisters.

Dr. Sarah Webber did the exams. She was young and kind and kept asking them if they had questions.

She talked to them a lot about birth control and sexually transmitted diseases and then complimented them on coming in for their exams first. That was the mature thing to do.

Branwyn felt like she was in the middle of a public service announcement.

"I'm just here to support my cousin," she said. "I have so many older sisters, I know I'm going to have to do this anyway. But right now, I plan on staying nice and virginal."

"OK," Sarah said. "That's a good decision too, if it's right for you. But if you change your mind, you'll be doing it on a basis of knowledge."

"Right," Branwyn said. "Thank you."

"It wasn't bad," Branwyn said. "A little pinch here and there."

Kara smiled gratefully. Branwyn wasn't the type who would exaggerate how awful it was in order to show off and scare her friend. There were many other girls who were like that.

Kara found she didn't mind the exam that much. It was nothing compared to the brain surgery she'd had earlier in the year.

"Are you looking for birth control?" Dr. Webber asked her.

"Yes," Kara said. "I'm not sure what is best to do."

Dr. Webber explained the various methods. She asked some pretty personal questions, which Kara couldn't answer.

"I'm not exactly sure how this goes down," Kara said. "I figure once it starts, it won't stop, but I don't know when it starts."

Dr. Webber recommended birth control pills. "Better sooner rather than later," she said. "They take a month to work. Then there is the disease angle."

"That may not be much of an issue," Kara said. "I think we're both total beginners."

"How do you feel about it?" Branwyn asked Kara, when they were outside again.

"I'm not sure," Kara said. "It's one thing to think about it and even to come for this exam, but another to start taking these pills. What if I don't end up even needing them?"

"Surely you will, eventually," Branwyn said.

Kara sighed. "Maybe I'll wait until I get to the dorm. I hate the part where I'd have to hide them from Mom."

"When you get to the dorm, you at least won't have that problem," Branwyn said. "But then you still aren't going to be telling your parents."

"Yeah, and you know, I wonder, some people, they could tell their parents," Kara said.

"If I told mine, they'd lock me up," Branwyn said.

"Mine would be all disappointed and try to convince me not to and Mom might start blaming Peter and his family, and she's been thinking so well of them," Kara said.

"It was simpler when people just waited until they got married," Branwyn said.

"Hey, if you were to be able to get married to Jeremy, would that be – would you do it?"

"Well, if we were married, I would do it."

"No, no, I mean, would you get married?"

"I never even thought about it," Branwyn said. "I don't think I could handle that."

"But if you had to wait until you got married to have sex with him, would you rather marry him now or have to wait for years?"

"I think I could put off the wedding for a while," Branwyn said. "The years go by."

Kara shook her head and smiled at her cousin. "They take quite a long time to go by," she said.

"Well, my parents managed it and they didn't die," Branwyn said.

"How long did they know each other before they got married?"

"Um, they met in college. They got married when they graduated. OK, I see what you're getting at. Maybe it is not practical in our time. Yet there is no guide about when, otherwise."

"It's when you're in love."

"But anybody can say that," Branwyn argued. "Actions speak louder than words. If a guy will marry you, that's doing something. Though when my mom got married, she could be pretty sure it would last. Nowadays you don't even have that. I think that's why my brothers and sisters stay single so long. Only the eldest is married. They must be afraid they'll end up divorced and we've been trained to think that's awful and that Mom and Dad would be disappointed."

"Melinda's divorced."

"Exactly. And it freaks everyone else out. They're afraid it will happen to them, too."

"Maybe you don't want to think about this," Kara said. "But do you think your unmarried brothers and sisters get involved in sex?"

"I don't know," Branwyn said, surprisingly unfazed. "They don't do it in an obvious way or say anything about it. From where I stand, it is possible that they don't. There's Clay. Clay and Taryn. But it was Taryn that ran her mouth about it."

"He's closest to you in age and you happened to know the girl," Kara said.

"Right, so the rest could be doing it and I just wouldn't know," Branwyn said.

"Would you feel comfortable talking to one of them about it? Just asking them?"

"Probably. Definitely with the sisters. Totally with Colleen."

"You mean ask her about her, not just as a counselor for you."

"Yeah. Colleen can handle this kind of stuff. Maybe we can go talk to her about it."

"I'd like that," Kara said. She almost felt relieved. There was someone older than they in whom they could confide.

Another day, Oksana had her first internal exam.

"Could you be pregnant?" Sarah asked that usual question.

"Oh, no," Oksana said. "Too old."

"If you're still getting your period, you're not too old."

"But someone my age – I never heard of them being pregnant."

"I have," Sarah said. "They think they are too old and then – oops. You have to be on the other side of menopause to be sure."

"Oh," Oksana said. "Maybe I need to be more careful, but I just think of it as not going to be. My youngest is almost eighteen already."

"I've seen mothers give birth the same week as their daughters," Sarah said. "Let's do a pregnancy test, just to be sure."

Oksana flinched a little for the exam.

"I never bother with this," Oksana said. "My daughter-in-law talk me into it. She is a nurse. She was in horror I didn't do it."

"You've been lucky," Sarah said. "You're healthy. But if a pap test ends up saving your life from here on out, you can congratulate yourself for listening to your daughter-in-law."

"I will remember that," Oksana said.

The next day, Sarah had another patient to contend with; Allison Hancock.

"Can you take this one for me, Chandra?" Sarah asked this of Chandra Singh, the gynecologist she was working under. "It's just someone I know of. Too awkward."

"This is a small town," Chandra said. "It happens. Sure."

"Thanks. You don't know what a relief that is. This is my boyfriend's ex-wife."

"Totally understand," Chandra said.

Sarah looked at the list. "I'll take Emily Quartermaine instead, for you," Sarah said.

"Nah," Chandra said. "I would like to do her case, too, because it has sensitive elements, and I think she needs to see the same doctor she did before."

"Know what I like about this area of medicine?" Sarah said. "Here we treat the patients more as people and less as numbers."

"We are women," Chandra said, and she and Sarah laughed.

When Emily came in, Chandra did her exam and asked her how she was doing.

"Very well," Emily said. "The anti-depressants and the counselor have done a lot for me."

"That's good," Chandra said, carrying on the exam. "How is it with your boyfriend."

Emily appreciated Chandra's euphemistic way of asking. Emily had the problem of a tilted uterus causing painful sex.

"It's going all right," Emily said. "I've done all the exercises every day. Between that and taking it into account, it's been pretty nice. Not much pain. Just avoiding the ways that cause pain."

"You both feeling pretty satisfied?"

"Yes, I think so," Emily said. "I think about getting the surgery sometimes, but I'm not sure. It seems like a lot to do for this problem."

This was a laparoscopic surgery to shorten the round ligaments that hold the uterus in place, strengthening them to suspend it in a more normal position.

"It is minimally invasive, remember," Chandra said. "I don't think it would be too much to do for improving the quality of life. Some surgeries we wouldn't do unless they are a matter of life or death, but this I don't think would be considered trivial for you." Chandra didn't want to argue to Emily that she get the surgery done, but she did want to get across to Emily that it wasn't trivial of her to get it. It was surprising how people felt about themselves, as if some things were just too much trouble for the rest of the world to do to improve their lives. Even this daughter of two doctors.

"Everything's been going OK," Emily said.

"Have you followed up with Dr. Whitman?"

"Yes, real quick appointments to keep my meds going."

"Why don't you go ahead and have him do a full consult with you now," Chandra said, helpfully. "You can remember to do it by attaching it to your annual GYN exam. He may not have said to do it, but I'll refer you."

"OK," Emily said. "That sounds like a good idea."


	41. Moving Right Along

Jason and Maureen were on a flight to Indianapolis.

Jason appeared to Maureen not to be the least bit nervous. Maureen was grateful for that, for his sake.

She was nervous about her parents and her grandmother and their behavior. They were such snobs, she thought to herself.

To Maureen, Jason was so perfect that anyone who thought he didn't make the grade or the cut in anything was just a snob. She thought most of the world would agree with her.

In Jason's life, with his family, he had every reason to be confident. Maureen had warned him that her family was worse, but that was hard for him to imagine. She was nervous about him confronting them, for his sake. He was so sweet and handsome, sitting next to her there on the plane. How could anyone, upon meeting him, think he was anything but the most perfect man in the world?

Maureen felt aggravated at her parents just thinking about that. It did give her some spirit, though. She felt ready to fight them, take them on. She just dreaded the idea of imposing this unpleasantness on Jason.

He took her hand. "Don't worry," he said, reading her mind.

"I love you," she said. "I've been so busy lately, I haven't said so."

He squeezed her hand. "It goes without saying."

Maureen leaned over and kissed him.

When they arrived at the airport, Maureen found that a limousine had been sent to pick them up.

"Impressive," Jason said, as they got in.

"If they had just come themselves," Maureen said. "See what I mean, Jason? Your family would have come themselves."

"I'm not sure," Jason said. "Mom or Dad could be at the hospital, unable to get away. AJ would have come, though."

"What about Grandfather?"

"I don't know. I think he would have come. If he had meetings, he might rearrange them. My parents show they are important by where they have to be; my grandfather shows he is important by how much say he has over things."

"And my parents show they are important by not being able to show up but sending a limo instead."

"What is it with our relatives?" he asked, grinning at her.

She smiled into his eyes, feeling all her love for him hit her full force.

"OK," he said. "Both of your grandfathers are deceased, right?"

"Right."

"So there is Grandmother Bridges and Grandmother Donovan."

"Yes. Grandmother Bridges is a bit easier to talk to. A snob, but not so much that you want to run from the room screaming."

Jason laughed. "OK," he said.

"Grandmother Donovan is the one to watch for," she said.

"So I should not call her Grandmother," Jason said. "But Mrs. Donovan."

"Yes, that's a good idea. See what I mean? No matter how bad you think your grandfather is, he lets me call him grandfather."

"He's so used to hearing it that he would let the pizza delivery man call him that."

Maureen laughed. "Now let me warn you about Aunt Eunice," she said.

"Super-snob?"

"Not at all," Maureen said. "Very down to earth. Nice lady."

"So what's to warn about?"

"She talks. And talks. And talks. Until your ears fall off."

"Oh," said Jason, laughing.

"She tells you about everything," Maureen said. "Everything you want to know, everything you never realized you might have wanted to know, and everything you don't want to hear."

"For me she might be a novelty," he said, reassuringly. "You've just heard it all."

"And then some," Maureen said.

"Does Katie still live there? I had the impression she doesn't."

"She doesn't, though she's not that far. Katie we will go to see when we need relief."

"Katie's OK," Jason suggested. "I knew that."

She leaned over and gave him a kiss. He kissed her back and pulled her towards him. They were still kissing as the limousine pulled into the circular driveway at the Donovan mansion.

V. did not hear from Rick for the next week. She wondered. She knew that if he did not contact her, it was out of some scruple and not because he wasn't interested in seeing her again.

She had talked to both Amy and Amanda during that week, too.

V. finally decided that it would be all right to make a move from her side in this case. He had asked her to the nurse's ball, and she didn't think he was so old-fashioned that he would run in terror at the idea of a woman inviting him out. Maybe he would. But if he did, that would show her something about him that she needed to know.

V. didn't have much patience for men who had rigid ideas about limits women should adhere to. There was nothing like having a daughter, or two, to ease a man's male chauvinist proclivities, anyway. V. knew that from the fact that her father never did think women should be cops until his daughter said she wanted to be one. Then suddenly, there was no reason why they shouldn't.

She called him and got his voicemail. She left her name and number and asked him to call her.

She knew he liked her, and so concluded that his hesitation had to do with something else. Well, she would find out about that something else and find a way through it.

She was about to ponder some way of running into him, since he obviously wasn't going to return her call, when he called.

"Hi," she said. "I wanted to ask you out for dinner, is that OK with you or should women not do that?" She had decided that direct was best.

"Thank you," he said. "I don't think that there's anything wrong with a woman asking."

"But?"

"I don't know if I should."

"Why don't you just come and tell me about it there?"

"You're doing a lot to help all three of us," he started to say. "Amy, Amanda and I-"

"OK, that's telling me about it. Want to make it in person, so it will be easier to discuss?"

"OK," he said.

"I'll meet you at the Outback," she said and then suggested a day.

"OK," he said. V. thought she might be imagining it, but he sounded relieved.

Sarah and Duane were in the stables on Cassidine Island, petting Sarah's horse, Noha.

Sarah took a deep breath. She looked determined. She got up onto the horse, flinching only slightly.

"There's time you know," Duane said. "If you can't do it today -" he cut himself off. "Who am I talking to? You'll do it today."

Sarah smiled down at him and touched his cheek. "I'm not going to try to do much more today than walk," she said, of the horse.

"What a relief," Duane said. Of course she had the sense to take it one step at a time.

"You know, you could teach me to ride," he said.

Her eyes lit up at him, that happy light that it was becoming a pleasure for him to invoke.

"Really?" she asked. "You would learn to ride just so I could teach you?"

"Why not?"

Sarah got down from her horse and put her arms around his neck. She leaned her head against his chest. He stroked her hair a little.

She explained to him how to get onto the horse. He had already made friends with the horse. That part was the most important, she told him.

He was a quick study, she noticed. He soon had control of the horse and was able to walk on it.

"You'll be cantering in no time," Sarah said.

"Can you get up here with me, or is that too dangerous?"

"Not too dangerous," she said, charmed.

She jumped up, which was easy when he helped her.

She was sitting in front of him then, side saddle. He urged Noha forward, slowly.

"Like a rescue of some kind," Sarah said. "Like a scene in a movie."

Noha walked, slowly. "Does anything hurt?" he asked.

"Not a thing," she said. "This is easier than just flat out riding." She reached out and stroked the horse's mane. The horse walked forward a couple of steps, then Duane stopped her.

He got down. Sarah smiled down at him, still sitting side saddle. "Maybe I ought to try it this way," she said. "Old fashioned, but it might work."

He smiled up into her eyes. "I love you," he said.

Stunned, Sarah slid off the horse. She put her arms around him and held him close.


	42. New Ways to Communicate

Laraine ran into Kelly's for a cup of coffee before work.

She saw Zander Kanishchev, Oksana's son, sitting at a table, likewise drinking coffee, with a pretty, petite girl.

"Hi Laraine," he said.

"Hi, Zander," Laraine stopped.

"This is my wife, Quinn," he said.

"Nice to meet you," Quinn said.

"This is Laraine, one of mom's accountants. I'm sorry I don't remember your last name."

"Breyer."

"Are you related to Toby?" Quinn asked.

"He's my little brother," said Laraine.

Zander asked her to sit down if she had a minute.

Intrigued, Laraine did.

"You know Toby?" she said to Quinn. "From the band, or personally?"

"My friend Valerie Edwards is Yvonne's older sister. The band played at my wedding."

"The _Dissentors_?" Laraine was incredulous.

"Yvonne toned things down a bit, for me," said Quinn.

"More than a bit, I hope," Laraine said.

"More than a bit," Zander grinned. "This is the girl who was talking to Uncle Mick, Quinn."

"Are you using that name?" Laraine asked.

"When I remember," Zander said.

"The one they ran into, in the park," Quinn said. "OK."

"You know, I'm glad I ran into you," Laraine said. "Toby likes Mikhail. They end up there at work together, at least, the nights Toby plays. And Toby thinks a lot of him. He doesn't want me to be – well, I was - " Laraine flailed around for words. It wasn't like she was just playing around. That didn't seem quite fair, she realized. Mikhail was the one who bowled her over. Left her breathless and unable to talk.

"Well, OK, here's how it came about," she went on. "A series of coincidences. A guy who hardly spoke English came to make a delivery at Deception and I start joking around with Gia and Cheryl – you know them?" They nodded.

"Go on," Zander said.

"I started joking around with them – they know all my problems with dating – how I was going to look for a guy who barely spoke English, because when I talked to that delivery guy, his lack of English kept everything simple."

"And then you met Mikhail," Quinn said, encouragingly.

"Yes, but my brother Toby really likes him and doesn't want me messing around with him. I was just thinking about how if a guy didn't speak English he couldn't tell me all those things guys say on dates that get on my nerves, you know, couldn't try to play with my head."

"I don't think my uncle would toy with any woman in any language," Zander said.

"I know, and I'm sorry, and I intend to quit doing the same thing myself," Laraine said.

Then to Laraine's surprise, Zander grinned and said: "He can handle it. Look, I have an idea."

Laraine just stared.

"Uncle Mick does really well in written English," Zander said. "Aces the tests. There's more time to think and get the grammar right."

"Yes," Laraine said.

"So Amanda – that's our tutor – gives him these questions for him to write answers for," Zander went on. "And the questions are no more than what you might want to ask him just to get to know him. So write him a letter. I'll explain why you're doing it. Or email. That's easier, the typing is easier to read."

"Are you sure he would want to?" Laraine asked.

"Yes," Zander said. "I think it just came out of the blue for him and – he'd be tongue-tied with you in his own language."

That sounded so much like the way he affected Laraine that Laraine could only feel a sudden sympathy for Mikhail. Maybe he was experiencing the same thing as she was. She'd had a gut feeling that was true. But it had never been something that she could be sure of. Now, with his nephew's opinion, it was more of a certainty.

"The laws of physical chemistry have no respect for language barriers," Zander said.

"You're so right," Laraine said, sighing a little. "Apparently they don't."

"I'll give you my email address," Zander said. "You can start by emailing me. I'll read his to make sure they make sense. Get him to rewrite anything that doesn't. I'll drop out, eventually."

Laraine smiled. "Thank you. Your whole family is so – nice. Your grandmother, everyone." She looked at Quinn, who nodded. "The best," said Quinn.

Laraine sat at the computer, nervous. Everything she thought of sounded stupid. Finally she asked Mikhail in the email what it was like to be a bartender. Was he a bartender in Russia? And did people really tell bartenders all their problems?

She sent it and then thought it was too impersonal and definitely stupid.

She didn't get an answer the next day, and hoped it wasn't too much and wasn't taking too much time for him to come up with an answer.

But his answer was confident. It went:

I was never a bartender in Russia. I learned how to make drinks as I went. I was an engineer in Russia. Here I could do that, but I wouldn't be around people enough. So I will do this for now, to learn the language.

At the LU people don't talk about their problems very much. The regular customers there mostly like to argue about politics. Or ask about whether there is a God.

Laraine smiled. He remembered that she had asked him that. It was nice of him to remember. The email felt just like a conversation. She felt less nervous.

Laraine wrote back that her brother Chad was an engineer, too, and asked what the political arguments were about.

The next day he answered:

For an example, someone will say there are too many immigrants coming to the United States. Someone else says that is not true. They argue whether 911 was a conspiracy that happened some other way than what the news says. Then someone else argues it is evil even to say that. Whether this or that team will win a baseball game. Gloating if that team won. Whether this or that baseball player is worth his salary. Whether everything that has gone wrong is the fault of the Democrats, or the Republicans.

Laraine laughed, amused by his list. Bartenders really did learn about human nature, she thought.

She wrote back asking if he knew her brother Toby. Toby knows you, she wrote. He likes you.

A few hours later, he wrote: Thank you. I like Toby. He does not like Taryn or Clay.

Laraine wrote back: Toby can be very stubborn, so there could be a showdown. That is, a big argument. Because I don't think Taryn takes things lying down. That is, if someone does not do what Taryn wants them to do, she does not just walk away. She does not give up.

How long have you been studying English?

It took him the rest of the week to say:

I agree with you. Taryn does not quit.

One customer said today that the Pirates do not have a prayer this season. They are a baseball team, and I am trying to figure out what that has to do with praying. This is how English is. Many words used different ways.

I started to study English ten years ago, when I first knew I was coming to the US. I had many years to study it, almost too much time to take it seriously, until the last year or so. Tatiana did not do much at all; that is typical of her. She thinks she can do it all of a sudden now. But it was nothing like having to use it all the time, so she was partly right. I learn much more hearing it all the time.

We have a tutor, Amanda. And Zander is going to be a teacher, so he likes to teach us.

So he was talking about Tatiana. Was that good or bad? She wrote:

I admire that effort. I really do. I took Spanish in school and only remember a little of it. I'm sure I couldn't just speak to someone in that language or any other even if I was put down in the middle of some country where that was all I heard. It would take a lot of effort. I can tell that it does.

When you don't have a prayer, it means you don't have a chance. Whoever says that thinks the Pirates will not win many games this season. It is like saying even if God heard your prayers, He would not grant them.

He answered:

Thank you. Zander says I need to learn about baseball, because there are many idioms that are based on it. Then there are so many used to talk about it.

Chad was at the LU last night. Taryn yelled at him. Did he tell you? He said he was going to tell you. He called it "she gave me a piece of her mind." He explained that one to me.

"I was teasing her," Chad explained to Laraine, on the phone. "Saying Mary Ellen was going to write an article "From the Train Tracks to the Bars – the Life of Taryn Polk."

"And Taryn didn't think it was funny."

"Nope."

"There is quite a bit of drama going on there."

"Yep. When Toby is there, Taryn goes after him and I think she's about to try a new tactic. Making him jealous."

"How stupid can she be?"

"Pretty stupid. Mikhail is the only sane person working there."

"I buy it."

"Let's go there tonight. The band's playing, if you still think you need that excuse."

"OK," she said. "Yeah, the band."

Laraine and Chad met at the London Underground and listened to the band for a while. In between sets, Chad went to the bar. He came back with Toby's water and a beer. "You go get your own," he said to Laraine, and winked.

"Yeah, right," Laraine muttered. "You're such a gentleman."

Laraine went to the bar but Clay was next. "I'll pass," she said. Clay just grinned.

When Mikhail was through with the previous order, he turned to her. "Raine," he said. The way he said that simpler version of her name she'd given him struck her as so sexy that she was tongue-tied for a second.

This is ridiculous, she thought to herself. One word and I'm done. Her eyes dropped; she looked at his lips.

He poured her a glass of red wine, Shiraz.

"I see," she said, looking at him. "Trying to get me to try something new."

He smiled and her stomach did flip flops. No one came up for another order. When someone did, a second later, Clay took them.

"You can write so well," she said to Mikhail, feeling the familiar sense of partial recovery. "It's like - " She stopped. She was going to say like talking to someone else. But it didn't seem like a nice thing to say.

"It is easier," he said.

"Of course. You have to think on your feet talking. That is, you have to know what you are going to say right then."

"Thank you," he said. "You are so – considerate," he said.

"How do you mean?"

"You say things two ways. Double the chance I will understand it. Even in email."

"Considerate," she said. "That's an advanced word in a second language. Very good."

"Thank you."

She took her wine and walked off, then realized she hadn't paid for it.

"You look zombified," Chad said. "He does it every time."

"Don't tease me, Chad. And go pay for this wine."

Mary Ellen came in. "Hey, Mary Ellen," Chad waved at her. She came over to them. Chad introduced them. He went to get Mary Ellen a drink.

"Pay for this wine," Laraine reminded him.

He winked at her and was gone.

"Chad talks a lot about you," Mary Ellen said. "It's nice you guys are close."

"He tells me about you, too," Laraine said. "And that you are close to two of your sisters. And that you have many brothers and sisters."

"We can hardly go anywhere without running into another of us," Mary Ellen pointed to the bar. "That's my brother, Clay."

Laraine saw Zander and Quinn Kanishchev come in. She waved to them and invited them to sit down and introduced them to Mary Ellen.

Chad came back.

"Did you pay for the wine?" Laraine asked him.

"No way does the bartender allow that," Chad said.

"This is my brother Chad," Laraine said to Quinn and Zander. "He's an engineer."

"Where do you work?" Quinn asked him.

"McKinley."

"So does my Dad! Danny Connor."

"I know Danny. He's a great guy."

They smiled, feeling that happy camaraderie that a mutual friend can create. Someone to talk about.

"Danny's always telling stories," Chad said. "And he's the first one to kid you. He still calls me rookie."

"You're still learning Russian?" Laraine said, to Quinn.

"One of my husband's pedagogical theories," Quinn said, with a sweet smile for Zander. "You can learn a language by teaching its native speakers yours. So Mikhail teaches me Russian. And it really does seem to work, at least, it does a lot for Mikhail."

"Does knowing some Russian help you talk more to the new immigrants in the house?"

"It does a whole lot, with the parents," Quinn said. "They're old for learning a new language, but they try. My Russian does most of it, for them. Irina soaks up English like a sponge. Mikhail always wants to use English, but when we can back that up with Russian a little, I think that helps. We can talk, anyway."

"We try to build on what references he has," Zander said. "They talk about baseball in the bar and he had questions. So I took him to a baseball game. Hearing about the same thing from different contexts seems to reinforce his vocabulary."

"Yes," Laraine said. "I remember. From his email, saying he needed to learn about baseball because there are so many expressions from it."

"Sure, like coming out of left field," Zander said. "Hitting a home run. Striking out. All that stuff people say in another context and use as a metaphor."

"Did you read all those emails? He did have pretty much perfect grammar."

"Yes, we ironed out a couple of things."

"How much?"

Zander knew Laraine wanted to know how much Mikhail had actually talked to her.

"Really minor stuff," Zander reassured her. "Reminding him to put in past for future tense forms. Russians tend to skip over the articles, because there are none in Russian and skip the verb to be in the present tense because there is no use of that in Russian. And the first paragraph he wrote had all this conditional tense in it, and he needed help with the forms."

"He didn't write it in Russian first?"

"Oh, no, I forbid that," Zander said.

"You have great ideas. You take him places, you said?"

"I take Mikhail and Irina everywhere. I figure that's going to stimulate the vocabulary they need. We went to a baseball game, over to PCU, to the country club, the drugstore. The other night we went down to the track, where Quinn drives, and there are many expressions from driving and racing that people use. American English uses athletic or other competition terms as metaphors for all kinds of things."

"Quinn races cars?" Mary Ellen asked.

"Since I was a kid," Quinn said. "My dad and my godfather got me into it."

"Oh, that's right," Chad said. "You're the daughter he brags about beating all the guys in the Port Charles 100."

"He must be exaggerating, since there were several guys who came in ahead of me!"

"Is it tough for a woman, to do that?" Mary Ellen asked.

"Not too bad," Quinn said. "Dad and Joe, my godfather, never acted like there was anything odd about it. As it happens, my brother, at least the one who is old enough, never showed as much interest in it. So they look at it as my baby."

"That's interesting," Mary Ellen said. "Can I come down there, to the track, and interview you for an article?"

"Sure," Quinn said. "You're a journalism student?"

"I'm a reporter," Mary Ellen said.

"Oh," Quinn said, pleasantly surprised. "There are reporters at the track sometimes, but they've never talked to me."

"That's odd," said Mary Ellen. "I'm with the _Port Charles Gazette_. It strikes me as interesting local stuff."

"Better than Taryn of the Train Tracks?" Chad quipped.

"Different," Mary Ellen grinned. "This is about somebody who can drive, not about somebody who can't."

Everyone laughed.

"Now, in fairness," said Zander. "Taryn avoided a big train wreck."

"Yeah," Chad said. "This town owes Taryn one."

Later, as they were closing up the bar, Laraine lingered.

Taryn cleared off a table, then played a song on the juke box. The band was packed up and going outside. Toby came in and out to get equipment. Taryn would look at him as he tried to ignore her.

"Come here, Mikhail," Taryn said. She put out her arms. "Let me have this dance."

Mikhail danced a few steps with her.

"Of all the nerve," said Chad.

"You read my mind," Laraine said to her brother.

Toby came in, and scowled at Taryn dancing with Mikhail.

"She wants to make someone jealous," Chad said.

"It's working," Laraine said. "Just not the way she thinks it is."

Chad laughed.

It got quieter as the band left.

"See you, Laraine," Chad said, going off with Mary Ellen.

"Later," Laraine answered, patting him on the arm and nodding to Mary Ellen.

Taryn flung herself out the door, saying "Bye Clay! By Mikhail!"

The jukebox was still playing. Laraine put more quarters in it and played another song.

Clay and Mikhail both seemed to be in the back, doing something.

Mikhail came out to leave, tie and vest off, his white shirt unbuttoned at the top. As usual, he stopped cold upon seeing that Laraine was still there.

The music was playing. Laraine swallowed. She was afraid her voice might not come out.

"Mikhail," she said, walking towards him. "Let me have this dance."

He smiled, recognizing how she repeated Taryn's words.

Shyly, she held him by the elbow on one side, while intertwining her fingers with his on the other. She felt every one of his fingertips, as if they sent separate currents through her. She looked into his eyes and could see that he was still in that state of shock where he didn't know what to do or say. They were beautiful, large and dark, so very slightly elongated that Laraine would not have remarked it if she hadn't seen his Asian mother. Her eyes dropped to his lips, which so often slowly curved into that smile of his; but now they weren't, just parted slightly.

Electricity and chemistry. There was no better way to describe it. He pulled her slightly closer, his other hand going to her back. She felt surprisingly comfortable, and her head dropped to his shoulder. He leaned his head down, and his hair touched hers.

Clay saw them, grinned to himself, and left without saying anything, dimming the lights halfway.


	43. Generations

Sarah Webber called Oksana.

"I have results of your pregnancy test," she said.

"Oh," Oksana said, not too fazed. Surely that was negative. "What are they?"

"Oops."

Oksana stopped what she was doing. She'd been putting her shoes on. She dropped the other shoe and sat down on the bed.

"You mean?"

"Yes."

Oksana wondered how she could have been so stupid.

But it wasn't bad news, really. It was just such a surprise.

"You want to come in and talk about it?" Sarah asked. "You and your husband?"

"Yes. Just me."

"OK," Sarah said.

They set up the appointment.

Oksana thought as she continued with getting dressed for Jaden's christening.

Alexis had managed it. And Jaden was Alexis' first baby, too.

There was no doubt she wanted the baby, Oksana thought, going down the stairs. She could hardly believe she was thinking about this to herself. Could she really be pregnant?

She ought to tell Jax right away.

Yet he had accepted the idea of not being a father. And she, Oksana, was so old. Maybe it was better not to tell him until she was sure everything was going to go well? It would be awful to get his hopes up only to have them dashed.

But she was healthy. She had not had a single problem with her previous pregnancies.

But she had been so young then.

Irina was hopping up and down at the bottom of the stairs. Oksana smiled. That child was so active. She was a happy little girl. Very resilient and adaptable.

Oksana thought she would at least talk to Dr. Webber first. If the chances were good enough, she could tell Jax. Really, they must be good. She felt guilty at the same time. She was in a quandary.

In the meantime, the very thing she had to do was hold a baby, her godson, Jaden, with Jax standing there, as the godfather. Jax's nephew. Her nephew, by marriage.

During the ceremony, Oksana looked down at the little boy she held. The clergyman touched his tiny forehead with his thumb, which was as big as the baby's forehead.

Memories flooded back. Little Aleksander and Little Peter. So she'd have another one. Maybe even a girl.

At one point, she handed the baby to Jax. She couldn't stop tears from forming in her eyes. Jax looked surprised, but at the same time, as if he understood. He thought she was remembering her sons as babies, probably. He had a mother, after all, so he knew all about the motherhood thing.

As Jax took the baby from Oksana, it seemed to him also that Oksana was choked up about he, Jax, holding a baby. She always let it get to her that he would not have children. He smiled and winked at her conspiratorially and was rewarded with a little smile.

There was a party at Oksana and Jax's house. Alexis and Jerry had a penthouse apartment. Now that they had a baby, they were looking for a new house, however. Oksana's house, as it was commonly called, was a better place for a party.

Rosa and Irina had put decorations all through the house. Jaden's name was everywhere. Irina had made her own signs saying "Welcome, Jaden." Peter had made a few for her, and Zander and Quinn had made one in Russian.

Jaden bore with the festivities with equanimity, crying once or twice and having to be returned to Alexis.

"He has good lungs, that boy," said his grandfather, John.

Katie McElhinney ran out of the house and hugged Maureen. "My love!" she exclaimed.

"Katie, thank you for coming," Maureen said.

"I had to be here to welcome you," Katie said. "Couldn't wait."

"I'm glad, Katie," said Maureen.

Katie looked at Jason. "And to get the first look at you," she said, and she hugged him.

"I'm glad you're the first one we see, truth be told," said Jason. He smiled at Maureen.

"I didn't expect you to be here, Katie," Maureen said. "It's so nice."

The mansion was large, like the Quartermaines', but more old-fashioned, especially the furnishings. Anything modern was discreetly hidden.

Rep. Jill Bridges Donovan, State Representative for the 86th District in the Indiana House of Representatives, the wife of State School Superintendent David Donovan, President of the Central Indiana Cultural Foundation, Director of the Indiana Arts Council, former CEO and majority owner of TTP Facility Services, Inc., former Vice President of the Board of the Indiana Chamber of Commerce, member of the National Federation of Independent Business (NFIB), Leadership Council and of the Republican Women's Leadership Forum, and mother of Maureen Donovan, stood up as her daughter came in through the door with Katie McElhinney and a young, but very handsome man.

Jason felt immediately surrounded by aristocratic old ladies. Maureen's father was not in yet, but her mother, both grandmothers, and her Aunt, Eunice, were in the room, as if waiting to receive them and pass judgment on him.

His best prior experience involving such women would be his late Grandmother Quartermaine.

"Jason," Maureen said, deliberately turning the introductions around from the way they were properly to be done in Jill's eyes, as Maureen well knew, "This is my mother, Representative Jill Bridges Donovan. Mother, this is Dr. Jason Quartermaine."

"Pleased to meet you," Jill Bridges said, holding out her hand.

"Likewise," Jason shook her hand. He could feel Maureen's hand on his other arm. It was sweet of her. Jason knew she felt protective of him in this situation, though he felt able to handle it.

"Quartermaine," said Grandmother Bridges. "I've never heard that name."

"This is Grandmother Bridges," Maureen said to Jason.

A silver haired and impeccably dressed lady regarded him.

"We're from Western New York, Mrs. Bridges, " he explained to her, as if that explained why she'd never heard of his family.

"Buffalo?" Grandmother Bridges asked.

"Near there. A little town, Port Charles."

"So you're from the same town you practice medicine in," said Grandmother Bridges.

"Of course," Jason said.

Maureen resisted the temptation to inquire of Grandmother Bridges what difference that made. Clearly this was some new standard by which to judge people, and Maureen wasn't interested in Grandmother Bridges' standards.

"This is Grandmother Donovan," she continued, speaking to Jason.

"I' m please to meet you," Grandmother Donovan said, more or less graciously. "Maureen has told us so much about you."

Jason smiled at Maureen.

"And this is Aunt Eunice," Maureen said, with the slightest touch of mock warning.

"Hello," was all Aunt Eunice said, to his amazement, but Maureen looked into his eyes with a smile that said, "Wait and see."

They finally sat down. Maureen's female ancestors asked Jason a series of questions, and he answered pleasantly. When she'd had enough, Maureen said, "Can we have this conversation without it being all questions for Jason?"

"I'm merely trying to get to know him," Jill said.

"Let him get to know you a little," Maureen said. "Any questions for her, Jason?"

Jason heard Katie snicker, ever so slightly. He smiled. "Yes," he said. "Are you from Indianapolis, originally?"

"Yes," Jill said.

"What got you interested in politics?"

"I wanted to make a difference."

"Please, Mom," Maureen said. "Not the campaign speech."

Jason flashed her a smile. "How old was Maureen when you got started?"

"Very little," Jill said. "She can tell you about many a campaign."

Maureen grimaced. She hadn't told him much of what she knew of that.

"I'll ask her," he said. "It sounds very interesting."

Later, a maid came to show Jason to his room. Maureen walked into it, flashing a flirtatious and conspiratorial smile.

"Let me show you where my room is," she said.

There was a poster of Humphrey Bogart, facing some danger while half-embracing Lauren Bacall.

"Oh, the one thing you and your mother have in common," he said. She closed the door.

"Does she have a poster?" Jason asked her, pulling her down onto her bed.

Maureen didn't answer, but put her arms around him. "Thank you for putting up with them so graciously," she said of the conversation in the living room.

"They don't talk about you much," he said, kissing the top of her head. "So far, at least."

"Your parents talk about you all the time," Maureen said. "And would have, in the reverse situation. And AJ, even if it's not always positive."

Jason looked thoughtful. "I wonder if that would make him feel better," he said.

"It might," Maureen said.

"So you get to sleep in your childhood room tonight," Jason said.

"Um, no," Maureen said. "I will be sleeping in the guest room assigned to you."

He smiled at her, and then kissed her on the lips. This kiss developed into something more involved.

"Umm," Maureen jumped up. "I closed the door, but did not lock it, and that's what I'm going to do now."

He laughed and put his arms out to her as she returned to the bed.

No one bothered them anyway.


	44. Relationships Old and New

"We took dancing lessons," Emily told Dr. Paul Whitman, a young psychiatrist at General Hospital. Dr. Whitman had suggested that himself.

"See, so your boyfriend is willing to do it," Paul said, teasingly. "He likes you a bit, it seems."

Emily shrugged and smiled modestly.

"In spite of your issue, as you put it," he said. "And the supposed disadvantages of his sex life."

"You were right," Emily said. "Other things matter more. My GYN, she said I should talk to you about the surgery."

"You're wondering whether to do it?"

"I wasn't. I just thought it was too much. There are people dying out there."

"And they live because you don't get this surgery?"

"Maybe. Medical resources, that kind of thing."

"Improving your sex life doesn't matter?"

"Not in the big picture. I think it is all right as it is. As long as I have Wylie, that is. If he ever breaks up with me, then I'd have to deal with it again."

"You think he'd break up with you?"

"I'm afraid my family might do something. And anyway, a lot of people end up breaking up. I'd feel like I was doing the surgery in case we break up."

"You'll probably always have the option for the surgery," Paul said.

"I can see the other side, too. Get it over with. It just seems like a lot of trouble. How do I explain it to my parents? I'd have to go to another hospital."

"Dr. Singh would keep your confidence. Though with your parents being who they are, they'd know but are you sure they would be against you doing this?"

"It's just not something I can talk about to them," Emily said.

"Dr. Singh could probably do it at Mercy," Paul said. "I think you'd be more comfortable with that than with using another doctor. The logistics will work themselves out if you really want to do it. Many a woman would just do it right away. Doesn't make it right for you. So long as you don't feel guilty about it. Even then, why would you feel guilty?"

"I don't know," she said. "I just don't think – I don't know."

"Think about it," Paul said. "And it's always an option. If you don't do it for your own reasons, it's one thing, but if you think you're not worth it, or you feel guilty, you have an issue to work on."

"I think I understand," Emily said. "Things seems to be going better, and I don't want to rock the boat."

"Now, why shouldn't they go even better?" Paul asked her.

"Maybe they should," Emily said, smiling a little.

Rick Friel sat at a table at the Outback Restaurant, with V. Ardanowski.

"Amanda followed your advice," he said. "She started seeing a counselor."

"The one I recommended?"

"Yes. The Delaney."

"There's one of those for every purpose, isn't there?"

"Is there one who is a cop?"

"No, as a matter of fact. Miracle, isn't it?"

"Amy wants to see your art studio," Rick said. "Amanda was talking about it. So you have a partner, of sorts? That's unusual for artists."

"Yes. You could say that. Elizabeth and I do have a supportive effect on each other. We're also a free counseling service. People can talk to you while you're painting, and so we get visitors."

"That must be interesting," Rick said.

"Yes, and they sometimes pay the price of ending up as models," V. said.

"Amy won't mind that," Rick said.

"I'm sure she wouldn't," V. said.

Through dinner, she told him about her mother's garden and her mother's life since her father had died.

"Still trying to fix me up with her?" he grinned.

"I'm glad your sense of humor is intact," she answered. "And my mother's garden has no weeds, either."

He smiled.

"I'm going to take Amy to see it," V. said. "If that's OK with you. I think she was interested, and if she can continue the garden, it would be a legacy of her mother's that she can carry on. It's not a really long drive, and my mother will love to meet her."

"You've done so much to help us," he said, as the waitress cleared everything away. Rick asked her for the check. "Since we lost Joyce, we've been – floundering, for lack of a better word."

"Naturally," V. said. "Why wouldn't a thing like that affect you greatly?"

"It has," he said. When the waitress came with the check, Rick took it.

"Give me that," V. said, in her best tone of command. "I asked."

"No, I insist."

"Male chauvinist," V. said, with mock accusation. "I asked you out."

"No," Rick said. "It's just that you've done so much for us. I don't see it would hurt to bend the rules a little."

V. relented. "So long as it's not because the woman never pays."

"Don't worry," he said, teasingly. "If I have ideas about women only being able to do certain things, Amy will set me straight."

"OK," she said, as Rick signed the credit card slip. "So that means you were just busy, when you never called me, and figured I would call you."

He looked up. "No, I was really hesitating whether I should."

"Come outside," she said, "Arguments take place outside."

"I hope this does not involve guns," he said, trying to make a joke. "I don't have mine with me." He didn't own one, even.

Outside, she wanted to walk him to his car. He tried to protest, but realized she was the cop, and she carried the gun, and she dealt with criminals as a career, so maybe it really was she who was the protector here.

"You don't have to go out with me," V. said. "If you're not interested. I won't get hurt. And I'll still be friends with Amy and Amanda. I can be just friends with you. Amy will understand it."

"That wasn't how I was thinking," he protested.

"What were you thinking?"

"That – well. That – I'm so – losing Joyce has me so - I don't really think I'm very optimistic. And I can't think of replacing her any much more than just a date. Even that feels traitorous. It's hard to explain. I know it's been a lot of years. I have all these – problems in my head. You are wonderful. A marvelous woman. You deserve better."

"You know what, buddy?" V. said, just the slightest edge creeping into her voice, though she tried to keep it out. "So do you."

She walked off to her car then, quickly. He swung his arm out as if to catch her, but she was much too far away. He tried to call her back, but his voice failed him. He watched her walk to her car, get into it, pull out of the parking space, drive to the road, and turn onto it.

Laraine decided she would drop by the London Underground for a few minutes. Just on her own. She felt emboldened enough, but still a bit nervous, as she walked up to the bar. She'd have one drink, visit, and then go.

She did not see Mikhail, but Clay Delaney was there.

"He went outside on the docks – break time," Clay said, already knowing who she was looking for, inexplicably. Laraine hadn't even had to ask Clay where Mikhail was.

Clay showed her the door as if he expected her to go out and see Mikhail.

Encouraged by Clay's attitude, she went out. .

"Hey," she said, when she found him. He was leaning on the rail. He had that shocked look again. She wondered if she could do something about the fact that he never expected to see her.

She looked up at the moon.

"How do you say moon in Russian?" She leaned toward him.

"Luna," he said, needing a second to come up with the word for that astronomical body even in his native language.

"Luna," she repeated. "Just like Spanish, but the stress on the other syllable. What's sky?"

"Nyeba," and his lips curved into his slight smile.

She repeated that. "How am I doing?"

"Very good," he said. His eyes showed he was more relaxed, starting to recover.

She laughed. "A start."

She looked at the moon a while again. They were both quiet, but it still felt comfortable. Laraine was amazed at this.

"What is hard for Quinn when she tries to learn Russian?" she asked, thinking her sentence through first before she said it.

"How the words change," he said. "In English words change less themselves, but get used too many different ways. Or sound same and spelled different way. Whoever made English wants every word to get used all the way up."

Laraine smiled, thinking she could tell what he was getting at. "Like the way you have the number eight and the past tense of eat, ate?"

He nodded.

"And the way there is a saying for everything, like talking about baseball when there is no baseball game going on?"

"Yes," he said. "What Quinn says - Russian – is hard - different things."

Laraine was realizing how tiring it must get to keep grappling with a new language. "It must be good to be able to go home and just talk to your family in Russian."

"Too easy," he said, grinning. "Zander relentless. Zander is relentless," he corrected.

Laraine remembered Zander saying that Russians skip the verb to be in the present tense.

"Yes," she said. "Zander told me about that. Don't worry if you forget 'is'. You still make sense."

He looked at her with what she figured was half amazement and half gratitude.

"'Raine," he said. "You come to our house? Any time. Always there is someone there, talking."

"Thank you," she said. "I will. You family is so kind. You live there?"

"I want my own, but Oksana talks me into, stay with her, staying?"

Laraine nodded.

"So we have more time, because of time we don't have – before."

"Oh, of course, when you lived there and she lived here."

"Yes. She never see Irina until Irina five. Is five. Was five."

"Oksana never saw Irina until Irina was five."

"Yes," he said, as if Laraine were the one who had tried to get it right and finally did.

"Oksana never met Tatiana?"

"No. Not until now."

"Oksana never met Tatiana until Tatiana came here, to the US?"

"Right, exactly."

Laraine started to get a feeling for how it had been for that family. She remembered meeting them in the park. She felt for them. She took her brothers for granted. Now Oksana wanted her brother around. To make up for lost time.

"You always live here, this town?" he was asking her.

"Yes," she said, suddenly paying attention. Usually, he didn't ask the questions. Laraine had a realization she knew him better than he knew her. "Born and raised. I was born here, in that hospital, where Quinn works as a nurse."

He nodded.

"I went to school here, and I got a job here and grew up here. Very boring."

"Not boring." He nodded toward the door of the bar. He had to go back to work.

"I'll find a way to tell you about it," she said.

She watched him walk back in, staying where she was.

Laraine found she was thinking about the millions of metaphors people used in English that had to do with sex.

Well, Zander wasn't going to be the one to teach him those.


	45. Love Has its Way

At breakfast the next day, Jason finally saw Maureen's father. David Donovan had been out so late at his meeting that they were all in bed before he got home. He apologized over this perfunctorily, to Jason, not Maureen, and shook Jason's hand and then picked up a newspaper, as if there were nothing unusual about having an extra person there at breakfast.

The contrast between David's reception of Jason and that of the women in Maureen's family the previous night was stunning. Jason felt already dismissed, but that was OK, as it seemed there was no problem and he was accepted. Perhaps David took his cue from his wife, after all her grilling, it seemed fair enough.

Aunt Eunice must have spent the night, because she was there.

"Will you get a chance to go shopping today, Maureen?" Aunt Eunice asked. Without waiting for an answer, she went on: "There is a new boutique off Meridian Boulevard. They have everything. Prada and St. Germaine. You look like you could use some new clothes. I know the owners. They are the nicest couple. The wife went to high school with one of the Fullers, I think, to St. Andrew's, not the Catholic, the Episcopalian. I think it was Jeanette Fuller, or maybe Linda Fuller, the older sister, who this lady went to school with. Jeanette is the one who married Tom Luckinbill, and then divorced him because he drank. So many people with drinking problems. I got an invitation to join the Board of the Hope House, where they treat addicts. It was from Laurie Sansome, she's the Chairman of that Board-"

"How is Laurie?" David seemed to come out of his newspaper-induced coma. "I haven't seen her in awhile."

"She's engaged now, and her divorce isn't even final," Aunt Eunice went on. "To a science teacher, of all things, a science teacher who got in trouble once with one of the high school girls, but they found him innocent. Laurie was on the school board. She's had problems with her neck, ever since that car accident, too. The one on Indiana Avenue. She can hardly turn her head sometimes. So many people have that happen. Someone hit me from behind in the car, once, but I never had a problem. But so many people have. Sally Little was telling me the other day that her back was all out of whack from an auto accident. She went to this lawyer, and he sent her to a chiropractor. Instead of a real doctor. Sally says this chiropractor really messed her back up."

Jason sneaked a look at Maureen. She winked at him. He smiled. At this point, David was reading his newspaper again. Aunt Eunice did not seem to notice that he was no longer listening to her. "Anyway, Laurie went to this doctor, and he told Laurie she was fine. Laurie still had problems with her neck, and one day, she went to a chiropractor. 'Those are quacks,' I said to her. 'No,' she told me, 'I swear by my chiropractor. He's really done a lot of good for my neck.'"

"Good morning, everyone," Jill sailed into the room and went to the sideboard to pour herself a cup of coffee from a silver coffee pot.

That cut off Aunt Eunice for a while, as Jason and the rest of the family bade Jill good morning.

Jill said good morning to Jason, and then said to Maureen, "What are you going to do today, Maureen? I thought you might drop by and see Uncle Martin. He complains when you come into town and don't drop by to see him."

"OK," Maureen said, "Thanks for the reminder, Mom."

"See?" Maureen said to Jason, as they went out to the Mercedes. Jill graciously lent it to them so that they could go out for a while.

"What, Aunt Eunice?" Jason said. "She knows everything about everyone."

"It's one thing to know," Maureen said. "And another to tell."

"Every family has a gossip," Jason said. "My grandmother used to do it, when she was alive."

Maureen shrugged. She took the wheel. "Where to, first? I know. I'll show you where I went to high school."

"I'd like that," he said.

They walked all around the St. Anne's High School. The front doors were open. Maureen showed him all sorts of trivial things, knowing they were trivial, but that they interested him anyway. Just being with him in these hallways was interesting. Remembering high school got Maureen feeling a strange sort of reaction against nostalgia. She was too happy now to remember any other time as better.

"You have any friends from high school who are still around?" Jason asked.

"Yeah, some," Maureen said. "But I won't take you to see them now. Next time. This time the family is enough, especially if Mom is going to insist on Uncle Martin."

Jason laughed, catching her in his arms. "And what's wrong with him?" he asked.

Maureen laughed, cuddling him in her arms. "He's just crotchety," she said.

"Oh, I can handle that," Jason said.

"I know, you have your grandfather," Maureen said. "But after that, we can make up for it by going by Katie's."

"Yeah," he smiled, and leaned down to kiss her.

Sarah was at Duane's house, humming as she fixed breakfast. He was at the door, helping Valerie bring her things in. Valerie was home for the summer and was going to work in Duane's office. Duane had assured Sarah that Valerie was the most open minded and independent person on the planet, and that Sarah need not feel uncomfortable about coming over or even staying overnight.

Sarah was in seventh heaven since Duane had told her he loved her. It had taken her completely by surprise. If Sarah had thought about it, she had thought it was ages away, and that she would have to say so first. That was what made it so sweet of him, Sarah thought. He knew she did most of the work pushing their relationship forward and had been grateful enough to take on something first. He wouldn't let her say it to him, and told her to wait a while. She was young and needed more time. She acquiesced, because she knew he just wanted to give her a feeling she held sway over him. That just made her love him all the more, though.

She rinsed her hands off and walked out into the living room. To her pleasant surprise, Valerie gave her a quick hug. "Hi, Sarah," she said. "It's nice to see you."

After Valerie and Duane took her bags upstairs, the three of them started breakfast. They knew not to wait for Yvonne. If she showed up, she showed up, but waiting for her was just frustrating.

"So how was your trip?" Duane asked Valerie.

"Good," Valerie said. "I just slept on the plane."

"Usually she meets people," Duane said. "Talks to whoever was next to her and then tells us all about them."

"The person next to me this time was this kid who was totally into his game-boy," Valerie said.

"Our loss," Duane said. Valerie rolled her eyes and exchanged a glance with Sarah. Sarah laughed, spontaneously.

"Well, I'm glad you got some rest," Sarah said, smiling.

"I need it," Valerie said, "If I'm going to work for Dad this summer."

"The lion," Sarah said.

Valerie looked delighted. "You know!" she said. "You must have been talking to Ann Marie or Kristina or Alma."

"No," Sarah said. "But I know those are his three assistants. But I learned about the lion from the lion himself."

"Oh good, Dad," Valerie said. "Well, the girls – the assistants – like it when I'm around. I protect them."

Duane looked down at his coffee, amused. Sarah saw his look, and was amused in turn. "They'll be glad to see you, then," she said to Valerie.

"I'll find out if they think he's been better since he's had you around," Valerie said, taking another muffin.

Tatiana talked to Ivan on the phone every day. Her phone bill was out of sight. She complained about it enough that Mikhail offered to help her with it. She was surprised that he was so nice and didn't just take advantage of it as something that would get Tatiana to go back to Russia. Mikhail was different in the US, quite a bit nicer. He said she could take Irina back if she wanted to. But then, Irina would miss the chance to go to school in the US. Become a citizen. Train with Sergei at figure skating.

Tatiana knew all this was good. She didn't really want to take Irina back to Russia just to have her near her and have her miss out on all that. The solution was clear. Tatiana and Ivan needed to move to the US.

Unfortunately the nation known at the US put up many barriers and restrictions. It was dizzying to Tatiana to consider them.

Her only real hope was to marry a US citizen. Ivan laughed at this when she told him.

"It wouldn't be for real, of course," she said. "Just on paper."

"I don't know," Ivan said, doubtfully. "I know of a girl who went from Russia to the US on a fiancee visa. She had worked at our company. She talked to some of the girls on the internet, and they were talking about all the hell she had to go through. And she really was in love with the guy."

"I know," Tatiana said. "They are total jerks about it. She should have brought him to Russia. Who'd bother them?"

"Not many Americans speak Russian," Ivan observed. "Or want to come here, when they can make more money at home. No, America is a place people go to, not leave."

That was too true for comment. Yet Tatiana found it inconvenient. If it were but the other way round. Why didn't that stupid Sergei just go back home and coach skaters at home? He'd be a big shot at home.

Tatiana complained to Ivan about that.

"Not after what happened to him and his family," Ivan said. Tatiana remembered. Sergei had no family and had been raised in the state orphanage. The Stalin years had decimated his family.

"You never know," Tatiana agreed, unconsciously repeating Oksana's arguments that she had heard via Mikhail. "Now we're free, but they always crack down eventually." "They" were the generalized way any Russian referred to the government. The people. The culture. The way of life. The chances they would succumb to tyranny. Well, that was the way of the world. Why did Oksana have such a problem with it?

"We do have a way out, if Irina stays, eventually," Ivan said. "Remember what you told me? She becomes a citizen of the US, she turns 21, and then we can go to the US. But I know you would miss her if she was over there most of the time in the meantime."

"I think we have to do what is best for Irina," Tatiana said. "So she stays. We just figure a way to get ourselves here, that is all. But if we wait, who knows? Maybe then, we cannot get out because they won't give exit visas."

"There are no more exit visas."

"What if there are again, one day? That's how Oksana puts it. Don't trust them."

"Why does she trust them over there?"

"Their history. They don't have a history of it."

"We can have a child, over there," Ivan said. "Won't the child be a citizen of the US too, if we do that?"

"Yes," Tatiana said. "But it won't help us. That's what everybody thinks, but it is not really true. The child has to be 21 first. So we have Irina already, and she's much closer to 21."

"Oh," Ivan said. "It is difficult, isn't it?"

She got him to agree, if doubtfully, to her paper divorce.

"But who do you marry?" he asked. "Mikhail?"

Tatiana explained that she needed a citizen, and Mikhail was not one and explained the difference to Ivan. It would be five years before Mikhail could try to be a citizen of the US, like Irina. They were only legally resident aliens.

"Oh," said Ivan. "Who is a citizen? Does Oksana know any? Maybe her sons?"

"I was wondering if her ex-husband might do it," Tatiana said. "He didn't get married again, yet. Her one son is married and the other is just too young. Mikhail works in a bar and he knows a lot of people. I work in a coffee shop and meet a lot of people. Someone is bound to be helpful and do it."

"Doesn't sound that likely to me," Ivan said. "But you're the one who is there."


	46. Relatives and Friends

Jason and Maureen went to Uncle Martin's house.

It was even bigger than the Donovan's house. Jason had the feeling this meant that Uncle Martin was some sort of family patriarch, along the lines of his grandfather, Edward Quartermaine, but an even bigger example. Martin Overly was Jill's uncle, and Maureen's great-uncle.

"Aunt Eunice – is she your Mom's sister, or aunt, or some sort of cousin?" Jason asked, as they walked up the path. "She seems a lot older than your mom."

"She's Martin's sister," Maureen explained. "His younger sister. And Grandmother Bridges is the oldest of the three."

"Oh, I see, Grandmother Bridges is the older sister of Martin and Eunice."

"You got it, Doctor."

Jason laughed and quickly grabbed Maureen and kissed her on the forehead. They went up onto the porch. Maureen took his arm and then kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for being so sweet about all this," she said.

"I wanted to know your family," he said. "To know more about you."

Maureen felt uncomfortable. "I don't want them to reflect on me badly."

"No," he said. "I meant it will explain how you react to things, what makes you sensitive, what you are sensitive to."

A maid opened the door. She recognized Maureen and exclaimed over her a little, leading them into a very old fashioned and very stuffy parlor.

While they waited for the maid to tell Uncle Martin they were there, Maureen showed him the portrait over the fireplace, of her Great-Grandfather Overly. There was also a portrait of Grandmother Bridges as a young woman, in another part of the room, and a photograph of a young Aunt Eunice.

"She reminds me of my grandmother when she was young," Jason said.

Martin came in. He was a handsome old man. Jason could finally see where Maureen got her looks.

"Maureen, dear," he said, hugging her rather stiffly and formally. He kissed her on the cheek, rather coldly, Jason thought, though it may not have been his intention.

"Uncle Martin," Maureen said. "I want you to meet Jason." She then went on to introduce him rather formally, as Dr. Jason Quartermaine, as if it were a habit to use such exalted manners.

"Young man," Martin said, rather than "Jason" or "Doctor." Jason smiled inwardly. Martin was ignorant of the fact that if anyone knew about attempts by old men to dominate young men, it was Jason. He was a first hand witness all his life.

"So you are from the state of New York," Martin said. "Do you know the Barringtons?"

"Not socially," Jason said. "My grandfather talks about them a lot. In terms of business competition."

"I see," Martin said. Jason could see that Martin clearly saw that Jason had just admitted that his family could be described as "nouveau riche upstarts."

"The Barringtons are the first family in upstate New York," Martin said.

Maureen sighed inwardly. She had always ignored this kind of talk and shrugged it off, but having it directed toward Jason was another matter entirely.

"Western New York," Jason corrected.

Maureen stifled a laugh. Good for you, Jason, she thought.

"Since Maureen insists on living in Western New York," said Martin. "We are hoping she will meet up with the Barringtons. Who she marries is very important. She's one of the Overlys."

"I see," Jason said. "I will do what I can to see that she is introduced to the Barringtons."

Maureen put her hand on Jason's arm and smiled at him.

"The Overlys are one of the first families to settle in Indiana," Martin went on.

"The Quartermaines came from England, I believe," Jason said. "I'm not sure when. I'll give you my grandfather's phone number, so you can check us out."

"That is good of you, young man," Martin said. "We cannot let Maureen risk her inheritance."

"The family inheritance," Maureen said, scornfully, about an hour later, when she and Jason had arrived at Katie's house and were sitting on her couch, holding hands. "We are a doctor and a nurse. Does he think we'll starve?"

"He would not let that happen," Katie said, soothingly. "Not even his definition of 'starve.'"

"I just hope my parents aren't going to be picky," Maureen said. "They know I love Jason and I think they realize that their family connection concerns don't matter to me in the least."

"Your parents will see things right," Katie reassured them. "Even if it takes them a little time. Grandmother Bridges and Uncle Martin may not like it, but can't do much."

"I kind of thought he didn't even mean financial inheritance, Maureen," said Jason. "I thought he meant the blood inheritance – risking the fine family connection by corruption with unworthy blood."

Maureen laughed and leaned her head on his shoulder. "You may not be wrong," she said.

"Everything will be all right," smiled Katie. "None of this is anything compared to what you have with each other."

They beamed at her, both of them, the good-looking couple in love.

Patti had asked Matt over for dinner with her and the kids, half jokingly at first, teasing him about whether he could stand it; hardly expecting him to come. But he showed up and brought her some flowers and a bottle of wine, and brought the kids yo-yos. Even Taryn.

Taryn laughed and played with the yo-yo, soon getting involved in helping Tony and Dasha and giving them advice.

Patti was in the kitchen, listening to what went on out in the living room. She was pleasantly surprised that Matt stayed there and talked to the kids.

"How many brothers and sisters do you have?" Tony asked him. Tony was ten.

"I have brothers and sisters up the wazoo," he said. "There are eight of them. Four of each. Jim, Jackson, Hugh and Clay. Melinda, Colleen, Mary Ellen and Branwyn."

"That's a lot," Dasha, who was seven, said. "But what's your wazoo?"

"It's a part of the brain," he said. "Between the medulla oblongata and the upper bicycler lobe."

Patti giggled to herself.

"I have a doctor," Tony said. "Dr. Quartermaine. I'm going to ask him if you're right."

"Good idea," Matt said. "Never believe what someone tells you without getting confirmation."

"Does that include teachers?" Taryn asked.

"Yes," Matt said.

"How about politicians?" Taryn asked.

"Oh most definitely. That requires quadruple fact checking."

Taryn giggled and did a yo-yo trick.

"So you're old enough to vote," Matt said to Taryn. "You're 18 now."

"Yeah, I don't know who to vote for," Taryn said.

"It's always a tough decision. But you're an adult now and have these responsibilities."

"Oh, yeah, not just rights. Responsibilities. What is it that you teach?"

"American history," he said.

"Oh boy," Taryn said. "I've had enough of the Civil War to last a lifetime."

Matt laughed. "So I guess that means you won't be finding out any more about it in the future?"

"As little as I can, right now."

"Senioritis," Matt said.

"You're good with my kids," Patti said, after the evening was over, as she walked him out to his motorcycle. "I think you secretly like kids. It might help explain your career choice."

He didn't answer, but just pulled her to him, grinning and letting his hand down her lower back, a little too low. Patti felt a leap inside, of lust, and a feeling of longing for something she'd been missing for so long, ever since before Kevin had left her.

She reached up as he reached down to kiss her. She felt like a teenager, kissing a boy outside the house. But now it was her kids and not her parents inside. Still, she felt revitalized somehow, as if there could be a second spring. She twisted her tongue around his, feeling the deliciousness of the kiss.

He got on his motorcycle, and then pulled her to him, his hand on the small of her back.

"Thank you," he said, reaching up and kissing her again. "For having me over and not hiding me from the kids or anyone else."

She leaned her forehead against his, hugging him, suddenly overcome with a feeling like affection. "You are good for me," she said.

He smiled. She let go of him, standing back as he revved up the motorcycle and then took off down the street.

Emily had a separate, small suite attached to Jason and Maureen's condo. Now though, she had the entire place to herself, since Jason and Maureen had gone to Indiana, so that Jason could meet Maureen's family.

Wylie knocked on Emily's outside door. She opened it and stepped back to let him in.

As she turned from closing the door again, he was still standing there for a hug.

"You got done early tonight," she said, pressing him to her.

"No, it's as late as it usually is," he said.

Emily looked at the clock. "Wow," she said. "This evening passed really quickly, even though I was just here by myself."

"What were you doing that was so absorbing?" he asked.

"Nothing in particular," she said, considering. "I folded my laundry. Put some stuff away. I was looking at my high school yearbook for a while, you know, looking at the stuff I was putting away. I read a novel and I thought about one of the cases at work while I was sitting in that chair."

"Work?"

"Yes, but it was fun, sort of interesting," Emily said. "It didn't feel stressful."

"This is all good," Wylie said. He was thinking that perhaps she was just happy, in a general way. That let everything ordinary be absorbing.

He pulled her toward him and kissed her, long and leisurely. She started taking his clothes off. He smiled and kissed her again.

Later, lying in her bed cuddling, she said, "I think I should have the surgery." He knew what surgery she meant. He was just glad she told him these things now, instead of being unnecessarily ashamed of them.

"Don't if it's a 'should,'" he said.

She turned to him and kissed him. "You're the best," she said.

"Don't have it because I'm the best, either," he said. "But only because you want to do it."

"I want to. To see how it is. It doesn't have any major risks. So I may as well find out."

"OK," he said. "But remember, I'm fine with our sex life as is. Don't do it because you think I want it."

"Do you think we have a long future?" Emily asked. "Because, I could do without it, but then, I think I may as well get it over with. If I ever had to be with another guy, I want it done already. Nobody can be as understanding as you've been, Wylie."

He looked at her sadly. "I wish you wouldn't think like that," he said.

"Most people can avoid it," Emily said. "I just happen to have to think of it, because of my tipped uterus and the surgery and all you've had to do to accommodate that."

"I know," he said. "Would you – take it to a new level – meet my parents?"

"Sure," she said, touched. She stroked his hair.

"Maybe someday, I can meet yours," he said. "Then we'll know we're going somewhere."

"Maybe if we have a big fight someday," she smiled. "I'll retaliate by introducing you to my grandfather. And Ned. And Skye."

He laughed, running his hands through her long hair. "I'll have a hard time getting you mad enough," he said. "The medication you take makes you very – amiable."

She smiled, and then leaned down to kiss him.

Laraine went over to the Kanishchev, or perhaps now more accurately, the Jacks house. She had gotten Mikhail to tell her in an email which nights he was off work.

Laraine was again amazed at how nice they were to her. First there was Rosa, who accepted her presence there as if it were a matter of course. Peter and Kara were in the kitchen, talking to Rosa. Peter introduced himself to Laraine (he was Oksana's younger son, Zander's brother) and introduced Kara as his girlfriend. They too acted as if a stranger coming to the kitchen to talk was a routine occurrence.

Laraine and Kara talked to Rosa while Peter went in search of Mikhail. Laraine was kind of glad Mikhail would have a warning she was there. Every time he saw her, it was a surprise, and though it happened to her sometimes, it seemed to happen to him more.

"I feel like I know him better than he knows me," Laraine was saying to Rosa. "It is hard to figure out, how to explain things. And my life is relatively boring."

"He can understand better than he can talk," Rosa said. "Remember that."

"OK," Laraine said.

"Tim said that, too," Kara said. "And Quinn. They both try to learn Russian. Tim says he can read Russian or understand it, but that coming up with something to say is harder."

"Spanish in school is all I had," Laraine said. "I don't remember enough about it, but I think I get it. I remember reading it and writing it but not speaking it. We had a class called conversational Spanish but we never got to the point where we had conversations. I would think it easier to write it down, from what I remember of Spanish. Mikhail was really able to get across much more by email."

"You did, too, probably," Kara said. "It is easier to read than to listen. Quinn and Tim say that, too."

"They both like to write in Russian," Rosa said. "They think it is fun."

Laraine told Kara she liked her hair. "The short cut is cute on you," she said.

Kara looked hesitant, smiled slowly, and said, "Thanks." This came from someone who didn't know her from before, so it seemed honest, as it were.

Mikhail and Peter finally came down.

Peter said something to Mikhail in Russian that sounded so much like it must have been "See, I told you so," that Laraine laughed as she got up.

"Hi," she said.

He said hi, too, and his smile sent her back to her seat. She moved over on the table bench so he could sit next to her.

He was a little different when he wasn't shocked to see her. Flirtatious, more in control. This was both exciting and scary to Laraine. She felt like she had too much of the upper hand a lot of the time, but suspected he did on any even ground.

"Where is Irina tonight?" she asked, just to make conversation.

"Tatiana," Mikhail answered her. "Kelly's Diner."

"Tatiana got a room over Kelly's," Peter told Laraine. "Somehow she got a job. I suspect Dad hired her under the table."

"Do you understand that?" Laraine asked Mikhail. "Under the table?"

He looked under the table. They laughed.

"Yes," Mikhail said, then. "Tatiana is not legal."

"How can she work at Kelly's then?" Kara asked.

"I don't know," Laraine said. "When we hire people, we have to fill out a form for immigration and look at their documents to make sure they are allowed to work. I would suppose that if that system works, Tatiana could not come up with the documents."

"Under the table," Peter said.

"Don't tell the IRS," Laraine said.

"Mikhail," said Rosa, helpfully. "Show Laraine the garden."

"I would like that," Laraine said, slow and clear.

Mikhail got up and helped her off the bench. Rosa smiled and Kara and Peter grinned at each other.

She followed him out, past the pool, lit up a little in the darkness. Laraine could tell the river was nearby.

"No more tax man?" he asked her, waving at some flowers.

Laraine smiled. She'd been shown the garden.

"No, he's gone," she said. "All done. Says we did OK. Paid all the taxes he wants."

He nodded.

"Do you have income taxes in a communist country?" Laraine asked, suddenly seized with curiosity and hoping he could answer.

"No, and there are no accountants." His eyes looked mischievous.

She smiled a little, half-rolling her eyes. "Smart-aleck," she said.

"Yes, there are," he said, conceding. "I will ask my parents. I was to school then."

"Then afterwards, post-communist, what happened?"

"You pay the tax. Not like here. They take it out."

"Right, and you file a return. A piece of paper with an accounting."

"Not there. You pay them on tax day. One day each year."

"What if you don't? Do they send revenue agents – tax men out?"

"I don't think they have them."

"Then how do they make people pay?"

"People just pay it."

Laraine marveled at this. "Voluntarily?"

"Yes," he said, amused by her utter amazement.

"Americans need rules," he said, a minute later. "They will not do anything for the government without government make them."

Laraine pondered this awhile. It was certainly true, she thought. If there was no threat the IRS was going to come after you, and if your employer didn't take the taxes out and forward them to the IRS, would people pay them? Laraine thought she would, but was sure there were others who would not.

She sat down on a bench and he sat next to her. She moved over, so her arm was touching his. It overlooked the pool and the Jacuzzi. She could see the tennis courts. What a place, she thought. It occurred to her that this alone was a big change for him.

"Do you want Tatiana to stay?" she asked, deciding there was no good way to phrase a sentence bringing up the concept of wealth and tennis courts.

"Yes. For Irina. Not for me."

Laraine liked him for not dodging the question or telling her it was none of her business. Maybe he didn't know how to say that. "Would Tatiana stay, until the government makes her go?"

"Yes. If she want. Wants."

"Makes her like an American, doesn't it?"

"Yes," he said. "Maybe we change when we come here. She cannot stay, or the law do not let her stay. Unless she divorce from Ivan and marry US citizen. And if she do that, it is a lie. So they find out, they deport her anyway. But Tatiana try to fool them. Will try. You watch."

"OK," Laraine said. "Sounds like a soap opera."

"A what?"

"Never mind. Maybe I can get Chad to marry her."

"No," Mikhail said. "Chad – good man. No Tatiana."

Laraine smiled. It was all a joke anyway, but did he get it? "Do you know any likely victim? Any US citizen man who might do it?"

"Sergei. But he not be fooled."

"Tatiana can't fool him?"

"No, and he not going to – how do you say, future tense, I can't remember."

"He will not. He won't."

"He won't be fooled. He won't do that to help her unless she tell – tells, him, that it is to fool them and he not – won't – like that. This country give him – he will not want to fool them."

"I understand," Laraine said, reassuringly. She just sat still then, feeling like she'd pushed his English to the limit and he could use a rest.

They walked to her car. He started to say something to her.

She put a finger to his lips. "Enough. You need a rest from English right now."

He smiled, and a charge of electricity spread through her.

"Go in and talk to your family in Russian. In fact, whatever you were going to say, tell me in Russian."

He caught her elbows. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around him, as obediently, he said something in Russian.

"Great," she said. "Go on. Tell me whatever you want."

He smiled again, and said a sentence or two. Laraine found it really sexy. The tone was flirtatious, light, bantering. Laraine thought it didn't matter what the words actually were. He could be quoting from financial reports, and it would still give her chills.

She looked at his lips. He bent his head, slowly. She held him slightly closer as she reached up to meet his lips with hers.

She kissed him back, understanding how he might feel hesitant about pushing anything and wanting him to feel like he hadn't done too much. She reached up then and kissed him again, feeling how unimportant words could be.

She had contradictory feelings of excitement and electric charges all the while feeling, somehow, completely safe.

"What's great about that," Cheryl was saying to Laraine by the water cooler the next day, "is that he can say exactly what he is thinking."

"Yes," Laraine considered. "I see that. There are so many things one is afraid to say. With him, you just can't. And it's not a bad thing."

"It's not?" Cheryl was wide eyed.

"Really," Laraine laughed. "Have you ever gotten into conversations with a guy you shouldn't have? I mean, I can picture myself asking if Tatiana could leave as far as he was concerned, does that mean he still wants to be with her? So he needs to have her gone? That kind of thing. And it would have been stupid. But if I had wanted to ask that of some American guy, we'd have gotten into this big stupid argument. But when you can't do it, because you know it will take time and trouble for him to even understand the question, you just don't bother. Then you have time to realize how stupid it is."

"I think I'll keep that in mind talking to Scott," Cheryl said. Scott was her boyfriend.

Laraine said: "Another thing. We are all naturally insecure. We can't believe another person is interested. We need so many words to reassure us and go looking for them, yet in the attempt cause so much misunderstanding. While doing all this, you miss something like the way he looks at you, the way he smiles at you. If you're not so busy with words, you have a chance to notice that. Who knows of all the guys I have broken up with, if some of them weren't giving me cues I was missing. It's what they do that counts, they can say anything."

"Don't you wonder, though," Cheryl asked. "What Mikhail was saying in Russian?"

"No," Laraine said. "I didn't have to consider what the words might mean, precisely, so I got the message. I know that doesn't make sense. It works, though. I think I'll get a book in elementary Russian. Just learn a few things, so I can say something. Something he can hear without decoding. That would be nice, I think."

"Very," Cheryl said. "That's a considerate thing to do."

"It makes me more considerate," Laraine said. "Of him, and less centered on myself, somehow."

"Hmm, you've got me convinced," Cheryl said. "Wish Scott didn't speak English."

They giggled over that for a moment, and then someone else came up to the water cooler.


	47. The Friels

V., true to her word, called Amy and offered to take her to see the boxcar studio, warning her that she might have to pose.

"OK," Amy laughed.

V. went to the house to pick Amy up, determined not to let Rick's being there or not have any bearing on when and where she did anything.

Bravely, she went right up to the door. She was happy to see that Amy answered it.

"Hey, are you ready to go?" V. asked.

"Sure, but come in and say hi to Dad," Amy said.

"Hi Dad," V. stuck her head over the threshold a little and made a perfunctory wave. But she didn't move her feet from the doorstep.

Amy grabbed her purse and went out, looking a little bit confused. "In a hurry, eh?" she said to V.

"Oh no," V. said. "We have all evening if you want." She opened the passenger side door for Amy.

"Thank you," Amy said, sitting down. It was a habit V. had that was super-polite, in Amy's view.

She bucked her seat belt as V. went around the front of the car.

At the boxcar, Amy was interested in V.'s self portrait, Elizabeth's self portrait, and their portraits of each other.

"Now sit down, I'm going to sketch you," V. said.

"OK," Amy said. When she was settled and V. was sketching on an easel, Amy said, "Do you need me to be quiet?"

"No, thank God," V. said, giggling. "If my subject talks, I get more of who they are and it is good for the picture."

"OK," Amy said.

"So how is the summer going?" V. asked. "Are you taking all those lessons?"

"Yeah, I signed up for cooking at that extension of PCU," Amy said. "Then I went to tennis camp. Now I'm at volleyball camp."

"Sounds fun."

"Sure is. Do you like any sports?"

"Love to swim and play tennis. Maybe we can play sometime. You'll beat me, having been to camp."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Amy said. "I have fun playing tennis, but I'm not that good. Dad is, though."

"Oh, I didn't know that."

"Yeah, he's into more than gardening."

V. looked up and smiled. "How is your gardening going?"

"Pretty well. The bluebells look nice."

"I was thinking of taking you to see my mom's garden, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, I'd like to meet your mom."

V. sketched for a while. Amy was quiet.

"Do you go to work tomorrow?" Amy asked.

"Late shift," V. said.

"Are you working on any particular case?"

"Auto theft, that's always hard to solve. No pending murders just now."

"That's good. It must be strange. I mean, you hope there won't be any. But if there were, work would be more interesting."

V. considered this. "You have a point. But then, unfortunately, there always is one eventually. You can sincerely not want it to happen, but know that it will."

On the way home, they made plans to go to V's mother's house.

"Come in," Amy said, inviting.

"Thank you, but no," V. said. "I have to get up early for work tomorrow."

Amy thanked V. and got out of the car.

Then she remembered V. had said earlier that she was on a late shift tomorrow.

"Hi, Amy," her father greeted her.

"Hey, Dad," Amy said. "What's wrong with V.? Why won't she talk to you?"

"She won't?"

"She didn't want to come in either time."

Rick sighed. "Amy," he said. "I appreciate your efforts, I really do. But you have to let the parties work these things out for themselves once you try to set them up."

"OK, but tell me how it is not working out," Amy said. "I'm curious. I'm the matchmaker. Naturally I want to know how well I'm doing."

Rick put his face in his hands.

"Gee, Dad, I'm sorry," Amy said.

"I don't think I can actually start dating yet," he said.

Amy rolled her eyes at the ceiling. "It's been so long, and Mom would never want you to do this," she started saying. "I'm sorry, Dad," she said, going over to him. "I guess you think I don't know what Mom would have wanted."

"No, you have a right to your opinion," Rick said. "And I agree with it. It's me. I just can't seem to feel like I'm doing the right thing."

"I can tell you like her," Amy said, starting upstairs. "Don't lose her just because you're being too stuffy."

Rick stared after Amy, watching her go upstairs.

Jackson Delaney was working on his plane. He heard someone come in. To his surprise and a mixed feeling of pain and pleasure, it was Amanda Friel.

"Hey," he said, going back to his work.

"Hey, Jack," she said, with a chipper, businesslike air. "Zander and I have a new plan. We want to take Mikhail and Irina to Boston and teach them a lot of history and English."

"New students for your field trips," he said. "Zander goes from student to teacher."

"Yep, isn't it wonderful?" she said. She went on: "He's really getting into it. Putting together everything we'll do. Those two are lucky. They learn things immigrants normally don't get to learn, faster than immigrants ordinarily get to learn them. Of course we want you to take us. I'm here to work out the details."

"Just that."

Amanda looked confused.

"Well, we'll work that out," he said. He took out his calendar book. "When's the trip?"

"Uh, actually, whenever you can go, next week. We need a few hours in the area, of course, as usual, we'll take up your whole day."

"OK, Wednesday should work. I have jobs the other days."

"OK, Wednesday, early, is fine with us."

"OK, see you then." He turned back to his plane.

Amanda watched him a second, feeling dismissed. "Jack," she said.

"Yes," he looked up at her. At once she could see the pain in his face.

"I – er, want to tell you," she said. She started to feel nervous under his stare. Her stomach lurched unpleasantly. "I'm getting into counseling. With your sister."

He relaxed and stood up. "Colleen?" he asked.

"Yes," Amanda said. "My friend, V., you know her, the detective who came after us when I took Amy to Washington without telling Dad?"

"Yes, I remember her."

"She has been really nice – she lost her father, so she understands. Dad's gone out with her, I think he really likes her. She spent some time with Amy, too, really nice, you know, Amy doesn't have her mother – she took Amy to her work – Oh, I'm just going on so as to avoid getting to the point."

"It's OK," he said, sitting down, making a point of being non-threatening.

"She said my losing my mother – or she suggested and got me to think about it – is why I never seem to be able to get involved in any relationship. Recommended a counselor, she talked to one once. So I don't want you to feel like you have anything to do with it. It's all me. My problem."

"Thank you for telling me that," he said. "It really does help."

"Sure," she said. She turned to go, but he called her back. "Let me know if you want to go out sometime," he said. "Just friends, no pressure."

She smiled. He could see the relief in her face. It pained him, but he knew he was on the right track.

"I really appreciate that, Jack," she said. "I will call you."

Rick did not sleep well that night. In truth, he had not slept all that well in several nights. He kept wishing Joyce was there. The strange thing was, he wanted to talk to Joyce more than ever, about an odd subject for Joyce, had she been able to discuss it with him – how he felt about another woman.

Rick wondered why he felt so unsure. It wasn't that he thought Joyce wouldn't want him to do it. He missed Joyce still, every day, especially when he saw one of their daughters. Somehow this seemed unfair to a woman like V. She just seemed to merit a man who had never loved anyone else.

Yet her casual little, "Hi Dad," from the threshold of his house, when she'd come to pick Amy up, had hurt. Maybe she agreed with him now. It gave him pause. Did he really want her to agree with him that she deserved better than he? Was he really going to give up any chance he had with her out of this supposed nobility?

He tossed and turned. And now he had alienated her. He knew dating again was not going to be easy, had always known, and had therefore put it off. Putting it off had been easy when he'd had no real interest in anyway. But V. – she was different.


	48. Music, Romance and Litigation

That evening Laraine asked Cheryl if she wanted to go to the bookstore with her.

"Sure," Cheryl said. "I take it that you're not going to ask your mom to find a book on elementary Russian for you?"

"Never," Laraine said. "I can't think of any explanation for wanting it other than the real one. And Mom will start asking right away if he's a Christian. And worrying that he's not."

"You're going to have that with anyone, unless you date a fundamentalist," Cheryl observed.

"I know it," Laraine said.

"Doesn't she care if you're in love or not?"

"I think she includes that," Laraine said. "In fact, she loves my Dad and my Dad is definitely not a Christian in her book. So she believes it is OK to be in love with a non-Christian. But she prays he will be saved."

"So, it would follow, you need to pray Mikhail will be saved, but can you see him in the meantime?"

Laraine laughed. "I'm not sure. Mom has the history with Dad. She wants better for me, I bet. Which means the man is a Christian from the get-go."

"How is it going with the preacher?" Cheryl smiled.

"I haven't heard from him," Laraine said, grinning. "I think he must date different women all the time – he would be the envy of men generally except that he can't - "

"Get laid," Cheryl said, and Laraine laughed.

"I wonder," Laraine said, as they looked at the books in the foreign language section. "To be consistent, Mom should say Mikhail is like Dad, that is, not a Christian, but a girl can be in love with him and wait for him to see the light. Pray for it, as she does for Dad."

"There's the communist state," Cheryl said. "It's not so much a choice Mikhail made as just conditioning."

"Since the fall he had the chance to go all religious," Laraine said. "I found an article about that. There are a lot of people really fervid about religion over there. The reaction of sudden freedom, you know."

"Anything suppressed with eventually spill out."

"Like that. It's mostly their historic religion, though. Not Mom's brand. Mom's type has missionaries over there, as if it were a generally godless country."

"You know it's sweet, you trying to learn about him that way," Cheryl said. "Searching in other places for what you can't get from him, about what it is like in that country, that he might not be able to tell you."

"It's general stuff. I don't know what he thought of it. I can only see that he didn't fall into the religious fervor."

"And you like that."

"With mom around, I have enough religious fervor."

"Sounds like it," Cheryl agreed.

Sean Monroe could not believe his good luck.

"Skye!" he said, at the door of the office in the London Underground. "Do you have a camera?"

"I have a digital in my car," Skye said. "Why?"

"I want to get a picture of this chick dancing," Sean said.

Skye looked at him as if he must be kidding.

"I swear, its Edwards' client," Sean went on, obviously excited. "The plaintiff in the Warren case. She claims she can hardly move."

"Oh, I see," Skye said. She got up. "I'll go out and get the camera."

When she came back in with the camera, Sean wasn't sure how to use it. "Want me to do it for you?" she asked.

"Would you? You're the greatest, Skye."

"Do you need movie film?"

"That can take a movie?"

"Not a real long one, but it can take moving pictures."

"Wonderful. She's the one in the pink top."

"Blonde hair?"

"Yeah, that one."

Skye took some pictures of the woman as she danced. Skye was far enough away for the woman not to notice her, but Skye kept an eye out and pointed the camera elsewhere if she thought the woman might see her. Other times, Skye boldly moved in a little closer. The woman was dancing away, having a great time.

"Serendipity," Sean said, when they were back in the office. "Perfect _sub rosa_ evidence."

"Glad to help," Skye said.

"You're great," he squeezed her. She put the pictures onto the computer and emailed them to Sean. He marveled at her brilliance and use of technology until she asked him to please shut up.

"Now I bet I can get the insurance company to put out for a _sub rosa_ investigation," Sean said. "It'll be worth following her around to see what else she does that she allegedly can't do."

When Laraine got home, she was pleased to see an email from Mikhail. He asked her to come down to the bar for a little while. He was at work. Then, he answered her question about taxes in the communist USSR, having asked his parents about it. Laraine had forgotten the question and thought it very sweet of him to remember it and to answer it. It must have been a strain on his English.

Ned Ashton and Allison Hancock were playing as Laraine went into the London Underground. The harmony was pretty, Laraine thought, and Allison's voice complimented Ned's nicely.

Laraine sat at the bar, near the end and just smiled as Mikhail just brought her a glass of white wine, without asking her. It was tangy and different.

"Georgian wine," he said.

"From the state of Georgia?"

"The country of Georgia."

Laraine was amused, letting him have control of the minor issue of what she drank. "So they withheld all the taxes under communism," she said. "Just directly, and nobody had to file a return. Then all of a sudden, the country changes and the people have to pay on their own, and they actually do it. I am impressed. You wouldn't have that here."

"Too many who wouldn't pay," he said. "As you said."

"And in fact the government has to take too much so it makes it look like they're getting some back," Laraine said. "The psychology is very brilliant. People feel as if they don't pay taxes, and feel like the government just gives them money, even though it's not so."

"The taxes a lot higher," he said.

Someone called him to make a drink. She watched him work, admiring how deft he had become at handling the bottles, hoses, ingredients and glasses.

A woman was holding forth. Everyone seemed interested in what she had to say. Laraine realized soon that it was the famous international reporter, Jackie Templeton. She had been all around the world and had plenty to tell, and was clearly used to being considered the most interesting person around.

"You think the twin towers came down the way the government says they did?" A tall guy in a suit and tie asked Jackie Templeton. "Or was it a controlled demolition?"

"Sean!" Skye Quartermaine exclaimed. "How can you even think such things? Let alone say them out loud."

Jackie Templeton was unfazed. "People outside the US wonder about this a lot," she said.

"You're an engineer, Mick," said Sean. "Do you think that jet fuel fire can bring down a building with steel supports? When the burning temperature of jet fuel is considerably lower than the melting point of steel?"

"No," Mikhail said, pumping soda into a glass and then picking up one of the liquor bottles and adding that to the drink. Laraine perked up. Now that was interesting. And he had been outside the US, too. "Burned ruins with steel - still standing," he said. "Burn out, with steel sticking up. There is some thing I do not know, or do not understand."

"Where are you from?" Jackie asked him.

"Russia," he told her. He put the drink at the end of the bar and poured a glass of wine and put that next to it.

"I dated a Russian once," Jackie said as he did this. "When I was in St. Petersburg, covering the Olympics. What a sexist he was! I practically had to brain him with my copy of The Feminine Mystique!"

"Anti-communist reaction," Sean said. "All that equality stuff under communism."

"Yes," Mikhail said. "Some people."

"All that equality stuff," Skye said, scornfully. "We are your equals. Women are just as smart and men. Smarter."

"Bravo!" Jackie said, clapping her hands.

"My dad is a reporter, too" Laraine said. "He said the same thing. About Russian men. Don't know where he got it. He's never been there. But Mikhail doesn't seem afflicted with that particular disease."

"No," Mikhail said, and Laraine was surprised he understood her comment to Jackie.

"What's your Dad's name?" Jackie asked her.

"Kent Breyer."

"No way! I went to PCH with him! Back in the day! How is he? Who does he work for?"

Laraine told her. Jackie gave her a business card and told Laraine to have her father call her.

"Sure, I'll give it to him," Laraine said.

About twenty minutes later, Mikhail came over to her with another glass of the same wine.

"Thank you," she said. "I'll need coffee next, though."

"No problem. If you stay," he grinned.

Laraine said she'd stay and close the bar down. He smiled at that.

A few minutes later, Tatiana came down. Laraine noticed Mikhail poured her a drink without asking her what she wanted, too. Maybe he just knew what Tatiana wanted.

Glen went up to Ned and Allison at a break between sets. He complimented them both and hugged Allison.

Ned wandered up to the bar, leaving Allison and Glen space to talk.

"Well, Mikhail," said Ned. "Let me have a beer." He was in a good mood. He saw Tatiana sitting next to him. "And another one for the lady."

"Thank you," said Tatiana.

"Careful," Mikhail said to Ned.

"My ex-husband," Tatiana said, indicating Mikhail to Ned.

"Oh, no wonder," Ned said. "Thanks for the heads up, buddy. I have one of those, too."

"She think you not so great," Tatiana said to Ned.

Ned laughed and toasted her with his beer. "Here's to divorce," he said, touching Tatiana's glass, or trying to. She scowled at him, but said, "Divorce."

Laraine took a sip of the Georgian wine. Mikhail went to the end of the bar to get an order from Taryn.

"So did you guys get divorced in Russia?" Ned asked Tatiana. "Or here?"

"Russia," Tatiana said. "Reason I not have green card."

"Oh, if you were still married you would have it?"

"Exactly."

"Too bad. Do you have kids?"

"Daughter, eleven years."

"I have a daughter who is eleven, too," Ned said. "She lives with her mother in Brooklyn."

"You see her?"

"As often as possible."

"Brooklyn, where is?"

"New York City."

"Not close to here."

"No, and it's a real pain in the neck."

"Russia much further from here," Tatiana said.

Laraine listened, fascinated.

Ned asked Tatiana where she was from in Russia, and eventually understood that it was very far away, indeed. "That's rough," he said, sympathetically. "And I thought I had it bad."

When it was closing time, Laraine lingered, so Mikhail and she could walk to her car.

"There's no moon tonight," Laraine said, as they went out. "Luna, nyet."

"You sound – like me."

She smiled. "I think there's a potential victim," she giggled.

"A what?"

"Tatiana and Ned, talking. He has an eleven year old daughter who lives in New York City. He gave Tatiana some sympathy. Knows how that is. His daughter is the same age as Irina."

"Oh," he said, understanding. "We see how smart Ned be."

"We will," she laughed.

At her car, she pulled him toward her, her hand on his elbow. He slowly put his arms around her and hugged her. Touched, she held him back.

"Thank you for coming," he said, against her hair.

"I liked it," she said. "I wish I could have you visit me at work, but it's too boring."

"Oksana show me the place," he said. "When I first in U.S. I did not see you."

"When was it? I must have been there."

"Not to me to see, or I remember."

"Me too," she said, cuddling against him. She looked up into his eyes. They were very bright and dark, dazzling, half dangerous, somehow. Still, she felt very comfortable. She drew her hand to the back of his neck as he leaned in slowly and kissed her, like he had before, but a little more insistently. She was acutely aware of his hands on her back and one of them moving up to cradle her head.

They kissed for a little while. Laraine felt like she was seeing stars, and then really did see some up above, as he pulled away a little.

"You," she said, "I will take you on a little trip, around town, Saturday, OK, if you want to. To see where I grew up."

"Yes," he said, smiling into her eyes. Her heart thumped a little. He seemed to feel that, and squeezed her shoulder.

"I will come get you at noon," she said, "Is that too early."

"Nyet," he said, and she giggled. She kissed him again before letting herself into her car. He closed the door and stepped away, staying there until she drove away.


	49. Professional Offices

Kristina Jenson was one of Duane Edwards' secretaries, and had been for a little more than a year now. Her older sister Dara had run into him in the courthouse hallway when he was looking for someone new and happened to tell her about it; and since Kristina had just graduated from high school and was on the market for a job and found the law interesting, Dara had pointed her in Duane's direction.

Today, Kristina was running late. It wasn't much of a problem. One of the good things about working for Duane Edwards was that if you were late, he didn't notice most of the time, only if he happened to be there and needed you right there and then. On the other hand, if he was doing something at 5 p.m. and needed you, it didn't seem to occur to him that you wanted to go home.

Still and all, once you got used to the ups and downs, you could appreciate the ups as well as the downs. You just had to learn his eccentricities. If you told him you had a doctor or dentist appointment, for example, he would always let you go, always assuming that to take precedence over whatever he was doing. So you were free to make appointments you needed to make without a lot of worry.

A down side was that he was prone to interrupt what you were doing to demand some other thing he needed right then and there. This made organizing one's day near to impossible. And what he had interrupted was work you were doing for him, after all. How to get it done? If you didn't, the lack would show up somewhere, and he could end up yelling at you.

The first few times he yelled or snapped at you, it was very upsetting, but when you realized that within the hour he would have forgotten all about whatever sin you had allegedly committed, it became more amusing than frightening, and a good laugh with your co-workers.

The biggest good point of working for Duane was your co-workers. Duane wasn't there a lot of the time. You and your co-workers told your stories about what he'd said and done. It got to the point where if he yelled at you, you had the best story and positively enjoyed it. You had more in common with your co-workers than with anyone on earth.

When Duane's daughter Valerie came to the office, it would sometimes feel at first as if you couldn't tell these stories, but then you'd remember that Valerie enjoyed them as much as anybody else, told her own, and then some of those were personal, and as you got to know the man more without talking to him, you realized he was not such a jerk as he sometimes appeared to be.

The clients were stressful to deal with too, but again, you shared them with your co-workers later and it all fell into a big laugh. Duane appeared to take them seriously, but every once in a while, you'd see a little glint in his eye that let you know he knew they were the crazy ones, not you.

There were a few good clients, too, who were super-nice to the staff, and sometimes dropped by while Duane was in court, and you could feel perfectly OK about shooting the breeze instead of working, because, after all, you were talking to a client.

Thus over time, Kristina had become close to Ann Marie Delaney, the longest-term employee Duane had, a mother of nine grown children (her youngest had just graduated from high school), who treated Duane with a motherliness that it was amazing to see him put up with. But you knew he knew he wouldn't know where he had to go next without her.

Ann Marie had a golden touch with clients and could calm an irate one down within minutes. The worst times in the office were her vacations, doctor's appointments, and times when she was busy doing something specific for Duane that had to be done that minute. It was then that you were on your own. But if a client made your life miserable, you later could cry on Ann Marie's shoulder about it. She had a way of minimizing the drama that helped you get a perspective that it wasn't the end of the world after all.

Whenever Kristina regaled Dara with stories of this office, Dara said sometimes it was better to have a job that was stressful but interesting, and that it was more stressful to have a job that was boring. To work her way through law school and college, Dara had held various dull jobs, and felt strongly that it was worse to do an easy but tedious job than to do a difficult and demanding one. This was the reason that Dara advised Kristina to try working in various fields first, and then go to college at night to train for whatever she was really interested in. This drove their mother crazy. College was a big deal to their mother, who thought of a college degree as if it were a panacea for all the ills that could befall a person in life.

"He wants this worker's compensation claim filled out by end of day," Kristina heard Alma saying to Ann Marie as she went in the door.

"He" was Duane, who they generally talked about in terms of "he" and "him." They knew which "him" they were referring to when they used it. Talking about clients did not figure in, because a client was "the client."

"He never does that type of law, but refers it to Lynn Farley," Ann Marie said. "I wonder what's up with that."

"You don't know how to do it either?" Alma's Spanish accent got heavier, as it always did when she was getting anxious. Alma Soriano was the newest employee of the office, and therefore, the one who was most prone to getting upset at not having something under control.

Ann Marie took the piece of paper Alma was handling. "Let's see if we can figure it out," she said. "Oh, look, there are instructions on the back."

Kristina greeted them, a grin spreading over her face. State forms and court forms often had instructions on them, and they were generally clearer than Duane's off the cuff ones.

"Hello, Kristina," Ann Marie said. "Alma and I are figuring out how to fill out a worker's compensation claim."

The form looked simple, but it asked a lot of questions. The answers were not all in the file. Alma called the client to have him come in. Alma spoke Spanish, a big bonus for Ann Marie and Kristina. Dealing with the Spanish-speaking clients became Alma's job, eliminating what had been a tough one for either Ann Marie or Kristina.

"OK, he is coming in tomorrow," Alma said, of the client.

"Did Shirley Warren call?" asked Kristina.

"Many time," Alma said. "I do not know what to tell her."

The phone rang, and then the second line started blinking. All three raced for their phones.

"Everything looks OK," Sarah said. "Let's schedule you for your ultrasound. And amniocentesis." Sarah explained what that was.

Oksana winced a little. "Never had the ultrasound before."

Sarah smiled. "Technology has advanced since you last had a baby," Sarah said. "In some ways, you'll find pregnancy more uncomfortable because of the tests. But what they can reveal makes your chances much better. So far I see no reason you can't deliver a healthy baby, physically."

"I thought it was very risky when older."

"It is generally, so we don't really recommend people trying for it specifically, at your age, though it's up to the person. But looking at you individually, it's looking pretty good. Do you have a problem with the father? They're usually here, these days."

"Not a problem, exactly. My problem. That we talked about children. I talk to him about marrying me, because I am older, and he was not married before and has no children."

"Uh, huh."

"So," Oksana went on. "Now this is good news. I wanted to see you first. You say chances are good. I want to see about that first, before I tell him."

"OK."

"Still, I am – I do not know."

"You have a friend you can talk to about it? I could refer you to a counselor."

Oksana lit up. There was temporary relief. "You make me think of someone, saying that. Someone I can talk to, come to mind. Thank you, Dr. Webber."

"Talk to them soon," Sarah said. "If all goes well, he'll find out whether you tell him or not."

Oksana smiled. She looked down at her waistline, now so slim. "I tell him," she said. "I just need a day to figure out how and when."

Gail Baldwin was at her desk. She heard a tap on the door, which was half open.

Gail looked up. "Oksana!" she exclaimed. "How nice to see you!" Gail had seen Oksana professionally, with her son Zander, in the past. Their relationship had been strained to the breaking point before Oksana moved to Port Charles, and Gail had helped them with mending it.

"I do not want to bother you," Oksana said. "I want to make an appointment with you."

"Come in and sit down," Gail said, getting up and ushering Oksana to a chair. "How are things going with Zander?"

"Very well," Oksana said. "Married now, going to college. This is something else."

"To do with you."

"Me and my husband and my pregnancy."

"That's right, you're married now, too. I heard and I congratulate you. On both. Thank you."

"Thank you. It is - make me – very happy. I have one problem, though."

"I'm listening."

"When I get married, I tell him – say to him, you know, you are seven years younger, than me. You marry a woman too old to have children. You have no children. He says this does not matter." Oksana swallowed, nervously. "Then, I find, big surprise. Pregnant. Me. At my age."

"Is it a pleasant surprise?"

"Well, yes. Very. Now I can – he can have child after all. One, anyway. But I am afraid to tell him. Because I know I am old to have baby and if something go wrong, it is too hard for him to settle that he will not have a child, think he can anyway, then lose that."

"I understand," Gail said. "You're afraid of a tragic ending, and that it would be all the harder, because the original expectation was more than you had asked."

Oksana nodded. "Such more of a tragedy," Oksana said. "Maybe I wait for that test. Amnio. If all OK, then, I tell."

"I hope it will all come out OK," Gail said. "But if it doesn't, what will you do? Handle it all in secret, on your own?"

Oksana looked struck, as if she only now just thought of the impracticality of this.

"Then it would be his tragedy too," Gail said. "He's your partner, not your little boy."

"I am not used to having a partner, except business."

"Your first husband wasn't?"

"Too much older. This one, he is younger."

"To fall in love with a younger man does not change the nature of the relationship," Gail said. "He's your equal. You have two boys and were not looking for another one. Well," she said, "unless you're going to have another one. Do you want a girl this time?"

"I will take either so long as baby is OK," Oksana looked down at her waist, though there was nothing to see yet.

"Of course," Gail said. "I wish you all the best."

"Thank you," Oksana said. "I do better this time. I am more partner to his father – her father, and I learn from my old mistake."

"You didn't do so badly," Gail said, reassuringly. "Zander and Peter are fine young men."

Oksana took a deep breath. "Thank you, Gail. This helped me see. I should not put off telling him any longer."


	50. Kent and Jackie

Kent Breyer was thinking about calling Jackie Templeton – he had her card, which his daughter Laraine had given him. Laraine had run into Jackie in a bar, the London Underground.

She picked up her phone and answered, "What?" in a short and annoyed tone. Kent was not at all offended. He was a reporter, too.

"I'm not a lead, or a story," he said. "Just a blast from the past. High School. Kent Breyer."

"Hi, Kent!" Jackie's voice was suddenly friendly. "I was in town and I ran into your daughter. Time flies! Who'd have thought my ace reporter for the Port Charles High School News had a grown daughter!"

Kent laughed. He'd been the editor, and she'd been a reporter. "I have two grown sons, too. How about you?" That was always the best way to start a conversation with age-mates these days. Some of them even had grandchildren. Kent was glad he didn't, not so much because he didn't want them as because he wanted his children to have a little fun in life first.

"I have a son and a daughter," she said. "By my ex-husband."

"Singular. The same ex-husband?"

"Yep. Can you believe it? Who did you marry, anyone from PCH?"

"Yeah, but she was a little behind us. But we're divorced, too. Being a reporter, I figure I did pretty well to raise three kids before my first divorce."

Jackie laughed. "I've had two divorces. The father of my kids and then another guy. I tried twice. Now when it comes to men, I just rent, I don't buy." Kent laughed. Jackie did too, and went on: "Being an international correspondent and a married woman do not mix. Say, we have a lot to catch up on. Let's go get a cup of coffee at Kelly's Diner, before something else comes up for one or the other of us."

Kent agreed, laughing. That was the life of the reporter. They had a lot in common, though they had not talked in years and though her career was much more high-powered.

At Kelly's, over cups of Kelly's locally famous coffee, Jackie explained what she was doing at the _Port Charles Gazette._

"It came time to write the book about my life," she explained. "And I thought I would write it back where I got started. The _Port Charles Gazette_."

"My son is dating one of the reporters," he said. "It sounds like a nice, local paper. Has it changed much?"

"Do you know her name?" Jackie said, and went on without waiting for the answer. "It has changed. No typewriters, all computers."

"Of course."

"The staff is slightly larger, and the paper they put out is bigger. The enlargement of the staff is in editorial."

"Too much fat at the top?"

"Yeah," she said. "Somebody needs to step in and rearrange things before they end up in the red."

"Would that be you?"

"Oh, no, I'm a reporter only and always will be."

Kent nodded. Many reporters were like that. Some wanted to become editors, but others never saw any step up in that. It was more like selling out.

"Why don't you come by sometime?" Jackie asked. "Haven't you ever tried working for the local rag?"

"No," Kent laughed. "I've stayed away from it."

"Think of becoming an editor?"

"I'm up for it at the paper I work at. Have been for years."

"Well, it can't be the glass ceiling."

He smiled. "No, it's the not-ready-for-retirement ceiling."

"Must be a great job if they hang onto it rather than retire at the first opportunity."

"It gets addictive."

"Don't I know it! So what are your kids up to? Do they all live in Port Charles?"

"Yes, luckily. Laraine, my oldest, is an accountant at Deception Corporation. Then there's Chad, he's an engineer at McKinley. Last, there's Toby, he's still at PCU and his life revolves around his guitar playing for a rock band called The Dissentors."

"How interesting! My daughter Nancy is going to be a freshman and she's going to come look at PCU. She wants to be a nurse, she thinks, and PCU is a good place to go to nursing school. My son Nathan, he's going to be graduating from Oxford."

"Wow, that's impressive!"

"Thanks. My son still doesn't even know what he wants to do in life. He majored in African Art."

"African art?"

"Yes, my kids are half African, you know."

"No, I remember hearing something about you and the African journalist, though."

"That's my first husband. William Ngala."

"Fascinating. Which country is he from?"

"Bamanda."

"So you raised your children there?"

"Oh, no, in London. That's where I was working and where William was given asylum. We can't go to Bamanda; it's a dictatorship. Nasty business. I'll tell you all about it sometime when we've got hours and hours."

Kent smiled. "What a life. Mine's been positively dull."

"Is your ex-wife still around?"

"Yes. She's a librarian at the Port Charles Library. Her name was – is – Lane Charleson. She changed back after the divorce."

"Too bad it didn't work out, after raising three kids."

"It was working out OK, until she went Holy Roller."

"You mean, fundie?"

Kent laughed. "Right. Jesus freak."

"Oh, boy."

"Oh, yes."

"So she divorced you for not being religious?"

"I divorced her for being too religious. There's only so much a moderate agnostic can take."

"Oh," Jackie said. "Hadn't thought about that kind of thing. I break up with my husbands because of other women."

"Can you believe, I never cheated on her? Even though I'm a reporter."

Jackie laughed again. "You're a good boy, Kent," she said.


	51. V and Rick

V. went again to the Friels' house. Today, she was going to take Amy to visit her own mother. V. looked forward to both seeing her mother and hanging out with Amy.

V. pulled up into the Friel's driveway. She saw that Rick's car was not there. Relieved, V. went to the door and rang the bell.

Amy came out, ready to go.

"Hi!" V. said. "Hope you're ready for a drive!"

"How long is it?" Amy asked.

"A little over an hour," V. said.

"You make it sound like it's way out in the country when you talk about it," Amy said.

"It is," V. laughed. "As soon as we hit Route 219, suddenly it's Hicksville."

As they got closer, they passed a horse and buggy.

"There are a lot of Amish people in the western part of the county," V. said. "Old order Amish."

"You mean the kind of people who don't use electricity?"

"Exactly."

"What county is it?"

"Cattaraugus," V. said.

"What's the name of the town you grew up in?"

"Machias," V. said. "We have the County Museum there."

"You must be proud of that," Amy said.

"Oh, yeah," V. laughed.

Helen Ardanowski, V.'s mother, was out on the front porch as they drove up. Amy was charmed with the country atmosphere.

"Hello, dear," Helen greeted both girls with a hug. Amy smiled warmly. It did not surprise her that V.'s mother was warm and affectionate.

They walked through the garden, Helen insisting on giving Amy a few bulbs and plantings. Afterward, they sat on the porch and drank iced tea.

"So how did you two get to be such good friends?" Helen asked.

"I sort of forgot to tell my Dad where I was going one day, and he ended up thinking I was missing, and V. and her partner found me," Amy said, pretending to look ashamed of herself.

"I'm glad it turned out OK. Where were you?"

Amy explained how she'd gone with her sister Amanda on a plane trip to see the Federal Reserve in Washington, D.C. and had to turn her cell phone off to get into the Federal Reserve building, so that her father had not been able to contact her for several hours.

"My mom died a few years ago," Amy said. "So Dad is extra vigilant."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Helen said. "V. knows about losing a parent."

"Exactly," V. said. "That's why Rick lets us be friends."

"Who is that, Amy's dad?"

"Yes," V. answered.

"V. went to the nurses' ball with Dad," Amy told Helen. "That's a big deal annual event in Port Charles, at the hospital. For charity."

"Oh, really," Helen said, arching her eyebrows at V.

"We just needed dates," V. said, getting up and going for more lemonade for Amy's glass.

"V. doesn't go on a lot of dates," Helen said, conspiratorially, to Amy.

"That's really amazing," Amy said. "She's one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen in real life."

"Why, thank you, Amy," Helen said.

V. felt herself turning red. "Thanks, Amy," she said.

She turned even redder when Amy said, "I know my Dad thinks so, too."

"Venus tends to be hesitant," Helen said, to Amy, nudging her elbow. "She is forever making friends of any man who shows an interest in her. That wonderful Jasper Jacks, for example. And that handsome Detective Taggart. So many others."

V. rolled her eyes. "Oh, Mom, enough. You have a wild imagination."

Helen looked knowingly at Amy, who grinned back.

Rick got home to the empty house. He knew Amy was out with V., and wondered if he would get a chance to talk to V., or if she would avoid him, or for that matter, if he would avoid her.

He went up to his bedroom, where Joyce seemed most present and likely to help him out, somehow.

He took the photo of Joyce from its place on his dresser and sat down on the bed to look at it. He leaned back onto the pillows and looked at her side of the bed. He wondered if he would ever wake up one day and not have as his first thought, "Joyce is not here." Sometimes, he still expected to find her downstairs, just having gotten up before him, humming over the coffee pot or some treat for the girls.

There was a box on his dresser that he never looked into. It had a collection of sympathy cards he had received after Joyce's death. He could not bring himself to throw them out, of course. He never looked into it. It was a sort of decoration.

Today, however, he got up and went to open it. He sat back down on his bed and flipped through the contents.

It was reassuring and comforting somehow. The cards contained the usual trite verses, but the signatures reminded him of the people who had sent them. The people who had attended the funeral and helped him out during that immediate time rose to his view, and he thought of them with gratitude.

One of them was from his long time friend, since high school, Duane Edwards. He and Duane had lost touch to some degree, but recently, had seen more of one another, so that the card touched Rick more right now. There was another signed by all of his colleagues at Jax Corporation, including the owner, his boss, Jaspar Jacks.

There was a little pamphlet which had been handed out at the service, with Joyce's name and dates and an agenda of the speeches and songs. Joyce's niece had read a poem, which was printed out in full in the agenda:

"You can shed tears that she is gone,  
or you can smile because she has lived.  
You can close your eyes and pray that she'll come back,  
or you can open your eyes and see all she's left.  
Your heart can be empty because you can't see her,  
or you can be full of the love you shared.  
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,   
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.  
You can remember her only that she is gone,  
or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.  
You can cry and close your mind,  
be empty and turn your back.  
Or you can do what she'd want:  
smile, open your eyes, love and go on." 

David Harkins (British Poet, b. 1958)

Rick didn't remember the poem, though he remembered Joyce's niece reading it. He had been in such a stunned state at the funeral. He could remember, even see in his head, who had been there and could to this day seem them speaking at the podium if they did so. But he did not remember a word they had said.

Now he looked at the words of this poem, and they seemed to leap out at him now, four years later, telling him to live on without Joyce.

He felt lighter; as though someone had lifted a burden from his neck.

He went downstairs and then out into the backyard. He did a little of the work in Joyce's garden, thinking that now it was Amy's garden.

About a half an hour later, he heard the car pull up into the driveway. He stood up and put the garden tools down and went into the house and washed his hands in the kitchen.

The door opened. Amy and V. were chattering. He heard Amy's laugh. He waited a moment and then walked out into the living room.

"Hi, Dad," Amy said. Her hands were full, as she held a box of plantings. "Look what Mrs. Ardanowski gave us," she went on. "To improve our garden."

"That's nice of her," he said. "How was your trip?"

"It was great," Amy said. "V.'s mom is really nice. So is Machias. The little town V. comes from. Out in the country, and with Amish people around. I'm going to take these outside," she said, looking down at the box.

"I'll help you," V. said.

"Oh, no, just have a seat and relax, V.," she said. "I'll be right back." She went off, gaily, trying to be outside before V. could protest or leave or follow her.

V. looked at Rick.

"Sit down, please," he said, politely, seconding Amy's invitation.

"Sure," V. said, sitting down. "How are you?" she said. She sounded sympathetic, almost. He felt a twinge of he knew not what, at becoming an object of her compassion.

"I'm OK," he said. He sat down. "Really. I had a – moment of epiphany."

"That sounds interesting," V. said, trying to sound casual.

"I miss Joyce," he said. "All the time."

"I know," she said.

"Of course you do, because you understand. You miss your father."

"I do," she said. "Very much. You're right, I do understand it. Though of course, there is that difference that I don't understand what it's like to be married. I've never been married. So never having had it, I can't imagine losing it."

"It has a lot that is the same," he said. "That individual, that you saw every day, who is never coming back. And you're close to your mother, I can see. She must have given you some idea of what it is like."

"Some idea," V. agreed. "Still, that's not like experiencing it. Nobody expects me to replace Dad, ever, and I certainly don't have to forget him. You have to be able to remember Joyce, not forget her, while at the same time maybe having someone take her place and not having that person feel like they are second best somehow."

"Yes," he said. "I need to feel a way around that. I know it's been done before, I'm not the first widower ever . . . . " He trailed off, then looked at her. "You just – deserve as well as Joyce or anybody else. To be first, like you said."

"I suppose," V. said. "This just desserts thing of yours," she smiled. She began to feel that perhaps he was torn, and that was progress. "Maybe you can think of it as me deserving what I want, rather than some abstract concept of a man who's never ever been in love before. Leave that up to me, and if I find I want to be the second person to be first with someone in a particular instance, maybe I deserve it."

"You do," he said. He got up and went to the window. Amy was working away in the garden. He turned back to V., who had stood up.

He stepped back towards her and took her hand. She was right in front of him, and breathtakingly beautiful.

He leaned down and kissed her, slowly and softly, and then let go of her hand and put his arms around her and drew her close. They kissed again, longer this time, and she put her arms around him.

"Thank you for being patient," he said, holding her close. Her head leaned on his shoulder and he bent his head to touch hers, and felt safe for a moment.

"I think you may be worth it," she said, pulling her head back, and leaning up to kiss him again.

They stayed together like this for a little while, until he said, "Do you want to go and get her or should I?"

V. laughed and said, "I'll go." He took her hand for a second, as if to tell her he regretted her moving away from him. V. smiled and squeezed his hand quickly. Then she went out to the back yard to Amy, feeling a lightness in her step that she had never felt before.


	52. Chad and Mary Ellen

Chad Breyer and Mary Ellen Delaney were going to meet at the London Underground one night after work. 

Mary Ellen was conscious it was their sixth date. She hated the way she couldn't avoid counting them. She wanted to just lose track, but it was proving impossible. She liked Chad more and more as a friend and wasn't sure if she was terribly attracted to him. She liked it when he kissed her good night, or held her hand, but she didn't see stars, either.

He was easy to talk to, and very friendly. Someone her family would really like. She had invited him over for her family's Fourth of July barbeque. That would be their seventh date.

Mary Ellen was on her way to the London Underground from the Port Charles Speedway, where she had been working on her story about the female stock car racer, Quinn Connor Kanishchev.

It had been interesting, interviewing Quinn, and Quinn's father and godfather and brothers. Mary Ellen was interested in interviewing Quinn's mother, too, just to get her take on it, and maybe Quinn's husband.

Thinking of this, she drove to the London Underground.

Chad was leaving work. He walked out to the parking lot at McKinley Engineering with one of the secretaries, Patti Polk.

"So how's your daughter, Taryn?" he asked. "Is she still mad at me for exposing her to Toby?"

Patti laughed. "No, she was dating two guys, now she's dating none in particular, but seems to be happier. How's Toby?"

"Not real happy," Chad said. "He has his moods."

"Taryn tries to flirt with him and he won't open up," Patti said. "So she tells me. But she's sounding like she's not that hurt about it, any more. She has this attitude, that she's given up on men, which she says jokingly, and I hope it is, because she's too young for that."

"Oh, surely that won't last," Chad said. They both laughed.

"And she has a job now, of course she thinks she's mature because of it," Patti said. "She puts all the money in the bank and loves to see the balance going up."

"That's good! Better than spending it on trifles! Very mature."

"Yes, sometimes people can be mature for their age," Patti said, reflectively. "Then sometimes, the same people can be immature for the very same age."

"What about me?" Chad asked, laughingly.

"Not you," Patti teased.

Chad arrived at the London Underground, feeling rather happy, looking to see if Mary Ellen was there yet. He liked having a girlfriend. It was better than having to ask out girls who'd never gone out with you before and might say no or even laugh. Just having someone to do things with was nice. Chad felt that he and Mary Ellen were good friends, and would be even if they weren't dating.

He went to the bar to order a beer. Mikhail was there tending the bar. "Hey, how's it going?" Chad asked Mikhail.

"Good, thank you," Mikhail said, getting out the beer. "And you?"

Chad smiled at Mikhail's formality. "Great," he said. "Is my sister around?"

"Not yet," said Mikhail, but he smiled at the thought, and Chad grinned.

"Cheers," he said, lifting his beer, as Mikhail went to take another drink order.

"Well, what do you know," Chad heard a familiar voice behind him. He turned to see his father, Kent Breyer, standing there with a woman Chad had not seen before.

"Hi, Dad," Chad said, good humor suffusing his face. His Dad was cool. "Fancy meeting you here. I always like to see my dad hanging around at the same place I'm taking my date."

Kent laughed. "This is my son Chad," he said to the woman. He introduced the woman to Chad as Jackie Templeton.

Chad stood up and shook Jackie's hand. "I've heard about you," Chad said. "You're a famous international correspondent come back to Port Charles."

"Yes," Jackie smiled.

"Chad is dating one of the reporters at the Port Charles Gazette," Kent reminded Jackie.

"Oh, yes," Jackie said. "Which one is it?"

"Mary Ellen Delaney," Chad said. "I'm waiting for her now, in fact."

"It'll be nice to meet her," Jackie said.

"You haven't yet?" asked Chad.

"No, the reporters are always in and out and so am I."

"Let's get a drink," Kent said to Jackie. "We can stay to be introduced, and then leave them alone. Nothing worse than one of your parents along on a date."

"Yeah, Dad," Chad grinned.

In a moment, Mary Ellen was there. Chad got up and said hello to her and politely asked her what she wanted to drink.

"And I have someone for you to meet," Chad said.

Mary Ellen felt unexplicably shy to see a handsome older man, who seemed to be an older version of Chad, staring at her, along with someone she thought she recognized as Jackie Templeton.

"This is my Dad, Kent Breyer, Mary Ellen, and this is Jackie Templeton," said Chad.

"Hello," Mary Ellen said, flushing.

"Let's sit down," Kent said.

Mary Ellen felt nervous.

"So you're a reporter at the Gazette," Jackie said, as they sat down at the Circle Line Table.

"Yes," Mary Ellen gulped and started to cough as she sat down. She felt embarrassed. Chad jumped up to get her a glass of water. Mary Ellen did not dare to drink out of her glass of Merlot.

Chad, ever attentive, came back with a glass of water as Mary Ellen managed to recover. She drank slowly.

"Are you working on any good stories?" Kent asked Mary Ellen.

"Mary Ellen was working on an interesting story," Chad said. "About a girl racer."

"A girl who drives race cars," Mary Ellen added, feeling rather grateful to Chad for helping her get that out.

"A female race car driver," Jackie exclaimed. "Fabulous!"

"Yes, it is very interesting," Mary Ellen said, feeling a little more comfortable.

"Tell me about it," said Jackie. "How did she get into it?"

"Her godfather," Mary Ellen said. "He had his own race car. As he got older, he sort of handed it on to her. She has younger brothers, too, but he didn't wait on them, he let Quinn do it when she showed an interest."

"My hero!" Jackie exclaimed. "What a guy!"

"His name's Joe Quinn," Mary Ellen told Jackie. "Quinn was named after him. Joe Quinn is a good friend of Quinn's father, Dan Connor, and he and his wife named their daughter after him."

"That's sweet," Jackie said. "A cute name for a girl, especially with that history behind it."

"So how do you find the Port Charles Gazette now?" Mary Ellen asked, feeling bolder.

"So much more modern," said Jackie. "And the reporters don't hang around the way they used to in the old days. I'm dating myself. Old enough to look back on the good old days."

Kent laughed.

"Why did the reporters hang around more then?" Chad asked.

"They didn't have laptops, and the internet, and they needed the tools in the newsroom," Jackie explained. "You had to talk to your editor in person. Couldn't email him at all hours."

"It all was far more serious in those days, it seems to me," Kent said. "You had to have sources for everything. You would never dream of editorializing in an article. Now it is as if the standards for the social sections and the entertainment sections have seeped into the news."

"Oh, isn't that true!" Jackie looked at Kent. "I did hard news back then, and even for local things, we couldn't just put in what is so casually put in these days. But we're acting middle aged," she said, looking at Mary Ellen. "Going on about how things were better in our day. How do you like working at the Port Charles Gazette?"

"I like it very much," Mary Ellen answered, feeling that she had perhaps misjudged Jackie, or prejudged her, wrongly. "Such a small local paper as it is. It has a friendliness to it. I've never worked for a bigger paper, but I've heard about it. It's like working for a small company that is more intimate and friendly rather than a bigger one that might be more impersonal."

"The Buffalo News can be impersonal in some ways," Kent said. "It's hard to move up right now. So many baby boomers to compete for the top positions."

"Dad is interesting in becoming an editor," Chad said to Mary Ellen.

"Ours is retiring," Mary Ellen said. "After decades"

"Hey, Kent, you could at least consider it," Jackie put in. "Smaller operation, you could bring some forward moving ideas in."

"Yeah, Dad," Chad said. "Get those small town reporters into the modern world," he grinned and nudged Mary Ellen. She smiled back, nervously. She had opened her big mouth and now she wasn't so sure that Chad's father as her editor was the greatest idea.

Patti and Matt were out on a date, having dinner at the Port Charles Grill.

"So how was school today?" she asked him.

"Just a couple of challenges," he said. "To the dress code."

"There's a dress code?"

"Yes, but every word of it is subject to challenge," he grinned.

"I'm glad I send my kids to Catholic School," Patti said. "You just buy the uniforms."

"It's a good idea," he said.

"What's an example of a kid challenging the code?" Patti asked.

"A scarf," he said, "is worn on the head. It has a skull and crossbones on it. White bones on black background."

"Oh," Patti laughed. "They manufacture scarves like that?"

"That's the trouble," he said. "These days, 'they' manufacture just about anything."

"And no rules covers that scarf?" she asked.

"Nope. So it is not forbidden. And how could it be? How would we word the rule?"

"Can you let this scarf go?"

"That's probably the best idea," he said. "That's what I'm for, but another teacher doesn't like it."

"Does it distract you from teaching?"

"Not me. But some of the teachers have this order thing. Then there are things that are stupid, but they distract you. One girl had her hair dyed blonde. So far, so good. Then she comes in one day and all of a sudden it's black."

Patti laughed.

"And then another day, it's green. Or has green streaks in it."

"Oh, no!" Patti exclaimed. "The same girl?"

"Yep."

"Makes me appreciate my dull job as secretary. Maybe let people have their green hair in high school, since they won't be able to when they get out of school and have to go to work."

"True, as I tell my students, there aren't too many employers who are tolerant of green hair," Matt said. "I never thought of it this way, but they are probably taking it as 'wear your hair green now, while you still can.'"

Laraine went into the London Underground late, as she usually did these days. She wanted to be able to walk out with Mikhail when he got off work. It kept her up very late on weekends, but she didn't care.

"Tomorrow, I want to show you where I went to school, and around Port Charles, like we talked about. For a couple hours before you go in to work," she asked.

"Thank you," he said. She liked the way he said that.

She liked the way he did everything. He was gorgeous, and he was sweet. So what if he didn't understand complicated sentences? She had danced with him, and she had kissed him, and she knew that no translation was necessary.

"Your brother Chad was here," he said. "Before you come in."

"Oh, it's too bad I missed him," she said. "But I'll see him later. Was he with Mary Ellen?"

"Yes, and your dad, too."

"No way! Oh, that's funny." Though she thought, it could happen to her someday, too. She didn't like the idea of her cynical, hardered, reporter father testing out Mikhail. Not that Mikhail would fail, just that he would have to experience that.

If she looked into the far future, Laraine could see that Mikhail would have to deal with her family.


	53. Flying to Boston

Jackson Delaney was in his favorite place, that is, up in the air. In the back, he had his favorite passengers, Amanda Friel and Zander Kanishchev, along with Zander's uncle and cousin. They were on their way to Boston to learn some history. 

Jackson had felt better since Amanda had confessed her situation, as it were, to him. He didn't have to feel she was avoiding him because she had no feelings for him. Though that meant no progress in their relationship, he was surprised to find, he cared more about getting to be with Amanda than making any particular progress on that. He had never really been in that position before. He would have given up and started dating other women. He had gotten too used to that, and it put him in that category of older, single men who weren't easily affected by a woman. It started to take more and more of a woman to break through the overall indifference. Jackson knew all of this from discussions over the years with his sisters, mainly his sister Colleen, who was a counselor and therefore had insight into these things.

Amanda, in spite of her hesitance and emotional troubles, had an honesty about it all that made up for her timidity in going into the relationship. So many women he knew would have just done it and then it would have fallen apart, all because she didn't face up to her issue and didn't tell him what was going on with her. He realized that Amanda had avoided the relationships, which he felt was a step above all that, because she had been honest with herself all along.

So he listened to her occasional laugh and her earnest attempts to field a sentence in Russian with a happiness he had never known before. Then she would stray into one of those interesting conversations with Zander, where she tried to get him to think, and Zander, ever open-minded, would follow where she pointed him. He would hear bits and pieces of these conversations, but he was always impressed by them.

"He quit his job over it," Amanda was saying. Jackson did not know who Amanda was talking about, but suspected it had something to do with American history, not the people they knew.

"An instrument of slavery and villainy," Zander sounded as if he were reading something out loud. "This Old South Meeting House, that's where they had their protest meetings."

"Samuel Adams, James Otis and John Hancock," read Irina, Zander's 11-year-old cousin.

"That's right," said Amanda.

"What was to protest about?" asked Zander's uncle, Mikhail.

"Taxes," Zander said. "And writs of assistance. Here read this, Uncle, you won't have it easy with words like this."

"Do you remember what writs of assistance are?" Amanda asked.

"General search warrants," Zander said. "With no probable cause. The British could just search any place they suspected any time, without getting any permission from anyone else in the government."

"Which the colonists protested because?"

"Because a man's home is his castle. As James Otis said. And he quit his job as counsel for the crown rather than argue in favor of the writs of assistance."

"Good memory. Now, can you get that across to an eleven year old on the one hand, and your other challenge it to get it across to Mikhail."

Mikhail was smart, and understood the concept with a translation, then tried to make out the English words for it all. This kept Mikhail rather quiet for most of the flight.

Irina bubbled with questions, and in English. Jackson smiled. Amanda was a great teacher, and Zander was clearly her protege.

Jackson usually stayed with his plane to get things ready for their return, but upon arriving at the airport this time, Irina asked if he was going.

"Jack usually stays with his plane," Amanda said, with a smile.

"How come?" Irina asked. "Isn't it safe?"

"It's safe. I just take care of things to save time, things I'd have to do when we got back, if I went with you."

"How much time could it take?" Zander asked. "It must be boring hanging out here. Come with us, Jack. We don't mind waiting for you to get ready when we get back."

"We'll have plenty to talk about," Amanda said, looking at Jackson.

That was enough. "I'll come along," he said. "Thank you, Irina. You've done your part to improve my education."


	54. Jax Learns

54 DO

Alexis and Jerry were looking for a house. They had stayed in Alexis' penthouse apartment so far, but now that they had a family, in the form of their infant son Jaden, they were interested in something with a yard. 

"I'll have to drive to the office in the mornings," said Alexis. "For the first time in years." Alexis had recently discovered one of the great boons of self-employment; she could have her own daycare right at the office. So far it had worked out all right; the only problem being when she had to go to court or to some other office for a deposition. She'd made do with Zander as babysitter, or hiring one from among the various teenagers she knew through Zander, or taking Jaden over to his grandparents, who were staying in town for the bulk of their time now, owing to the existence of their first grandson and two brand new daughters-in-law.

"You could do an office at home," Jerry said, "If you're interested in that."

"Nah, the clients coming there would freak me out," Alexis said. 

Alexis and Jerry took Jaden to Oksana's, where he would be able to hang with his grandparents, his uncle and aunt, and various cousins, while they went out with Glen Hancock, the real estate agent. 

"You be a good boy for Uncle Jax and Aunt Oksana," she addressed an uncomprehending Jaden. 

Oksana took the baby from Alexis. "He is so sweet," she said of the baby.

Alexis kissed the baby. 

"Bye, sport," said Jerry fondly.

Oksana was pleased that the baby did not cry. He just looked at Oksana and then grabbed her hair.

Oksana had thought about what Paul had told her. One thing stuck in her mind; he's your partner, not your little boy.

It occurred to Oksana maybe she hadn't quite had one of those before. She'd had two little boys. And Sergei was much older than she. He'd been her coach. She had tried to equal him. She thought of his as a mentor somehow, and then later, as their marriage fell apart, as a competitor, one she tried hard to beat and was proud of being able to beat, on occasion. 

But a partner was a new sort of thing for her.

Jax was seven years younger and much more good natured than Sergei. She and he were rough equals in the business world. So she supposed, she had defaulted into seeing him as the little boy rather than the mentor or competitor.

She put the baby down in his little rocker, and talked to him for a little while. Jax came in and sat down next to her. 

"Isn't this great?" Jax said. "And we can give him back later."

Oksana thought it was going to be a little harder. But she knew he was joking. Trying to make her feel better. Now he had to know that might not be necessary.

"I gotta tell you something," she blurted out.

"Sure," he said, putting his arm around her. His face showed that he could tell that whatever it was, it was serious.

Jaden grabbed at a little toy Oksana had. His little fingers wrapped around the little leg of the stuffed dog. 

Oksana thought taking it a step at a time might help. 

"I went to the doctor," she started to say. 

"You're sick?"

"No," she said, taking her free arm and touching his. She was going about it wrong. She was usually so good at talking to people in business matters, that she had a tendency to assume she would be good at it in personal matters, too, and was often wrong. 

His face went from alarmed to curious.

"Dr. Webber asked me if I could be - pregnant," she said, slowly. "I said no, she said it is better to check when it can be possible, and then she did the test to check, and . ."

He was not quite taking in her drift. 

"Did she find something wrong?" he asked.

"Yes. No. I mean, she find - I am pregnant."

He was still staring.

"Now," she added. "Right now."

"You mean," he said.

"We have a baby," Oksana said.

His face started to soften, light up.

"Really?" he said, half questioning, half stating.

"Yes," she laughed. Jaden smiled and reached towards Jax. Jax took his little hand, and then took the baby as Oksana unconsciously handed him over. 

"After all," he said. 

"Yes," she smiled. "Is it OK?"

"Of course!" He looked at her. "It's just unexpected. Are you - are you glad?" he asked. 

"Of course!" she answered. They both looked at each other, and then at the baby, and laughed. 


	55. Mikhail and Laraine

Laraine Breyer went to Oksana's house to pick up Mikhail. She was going to show him around Port Charles. He'd lived there for some time now - he worked as a bartender at the London Underground and lived in his sister's mansion, and so Laraine thought he would like to see how it was in between - he was always interested in anything American. 

And in her. Laraine marveled at that. She had never known any man to be so handsome, and so sweet at the same time.

They went by three houses that the Breyers had lived in, the third being the one Kent still kept. After seeing these three subdivisions, Mikhail said, "So many little houses."

"Russia doesn't look like this," she said.

"No. Big apartments buildings. Some big houses. Some tall thin rows of houses in the city. Very few little houses. Not rows and rows of little houses like this." 

They drove by Port Charles Middle School, and then went over to Port Charles High School, where they got out. She did her best to explain the American high school system to him, knowing he would want know as much as he could understand, since it could be in Irina's future.

"We start in ninth grade, for high school," she said. "Then four years."

"How old?"

"Oh, about 14 or 15, until 17 or 18. Is that how it is in Russia?"

"No, in Russia is one school."

"You mean one building?"

"Yes. No middle, high. Just school."

"All ages in one building?"

"Yes."

"Oh, that's - I like that," Laraine said, considering.

He smiled.

She showed him the tennis courts, where she had played on the Port Charles High School team, and was pleasantly surprised to find that he had played tennis as a teenager, too.

"OK," she said. "Now we will go somewhere even more foreign for you. Church."

"Two churches, actually," she said, when they were back in her car. "One, the one we went to as we grew up. Then the one Mom goes to now."

"You do not go with Mom now?"

"Sometimes," she said. "I try to."

He was full of questions at the Methodist Church. It appeared he had rarely, if ever, been inside one. It was empty for now. She took him up to the choir loft for the view and to explain things. His eyes were wide. She could tell it was all a great mystery to him.

They walked in the cemetery. She'd played there as a child, with her brothers, waiting for her parents to come out from socializing after the service. She showed him the oldest one and the one she and her brothers liked to hide behind. 

He smiled and took her hand.

"You think Irina would like this place?" she asked.

He considered a moment. "Yes," he said.

They went on to Lane's new church.

The Church of the Open Bible was in a one story building. It appeared to have once been an office building. The sign outside, with its painting of, of course, an open Bible, gave the name of the church and the exhortation "Give your thoughts to the Lord and all will follow."

"Like store advertising," Laraine remarked, out loud. It was something she had thought, but she'd always been alone, or with her mother, and that was something she couldn't say in front of Lane.

"Many words, on buildings, in U.S.," Mikhail said.

Laraine was interested. "In Russia, there are signs, surely?"

"Yes, it only say, 'shoe store,' no names of owner, no ad-ver-izing."

"Oh, in communist times it would not have belonged to anyone."

"Even now it do, no sign."

"What about a church. Just 'church?' Does it say what denomination? Which faith?"

"No sign. A church is a church."

"I guess it is rather obvious," Laraine smiled.

"Not here," he observed. 

"True," she said, taking a deep breath. "This could be any building."

The doors were open. There was a bulletin board in the hall with information on church activities, and another one that even had the photos of the parishioners, or members.

Laraine scanned through them. "There she is," she pointed to the photo of her mother, Lane.

"The one in the library," he said.

"Yeah. You've seen her?"

"Yes. Library."

Laraine never thought of how he'd been in the public library. "I'll introduce you to her in the library, if that's OK," she said, thinking that might make his life easier.

"Thank you," he said.

She led him into the chapel. It was much simpler than the one in the Methodist Church. They compared things for a little while.

"Hello," said a voice. Laraine turned around.

It was the pastor, Sam Quackenbush.

"Oh, hello, Sam," she said, flustered. Then she wondered why she was flustered. It was his church after all.

"Hi, Laraine," said Sam. "Welcome to the Church of the Open Bible," he added, to Mikhail.

He thinks we're going to see the light, Laraine thought.

But Sam went on with his business. He went up to the pulpit and arranged some papers. Apparently he wasn't going to attack Mikhail on whether or not he accepted Jesus as his Personal Savior.

Laraine repented as Sam came back down the aisle. She introduced the two men. 

"Are you thinking of getting married in our church?" Sam asked.

Laraine was stunned with embarassment. "Oh, no," she said, quickly. "That's not on my horizon. It's that Mikhail, he's from Russia, I'm showing him around, you know, some acquaintance with America. Life in America. You know," she said, looking pleadingly at Sam, as if he should understand how people always showed newcomers around the Church of the Open Bible.

"Of course," Sam said, most graciously, while Laraine silently prayed that Mikhail had not understood Sam and Laraine's conversation. 

But she caught his eye, and she could tell that he had some idea of how she'd gotten stuck. But he just looked amused.

He's more intelligent than I give him credit for, Laraine realized. The broken English makes him sound less so, but all the same, he is. 

She got up, taking Mikhail's hand. 

"Say hi to your mom for me," Sam said, politely.

"Sure," said Laraine. "I will." 


	56. Tim and Diana with Kathleen

"So what are you going to do with your time off?" Kathleen Connor asked her son Tim, as they were eating dinner. Tim's girlfriend, Diana, was with them. Tim had just graduated from high school, and planned to take two weeks off before he started working at a job at a garage that repaired and serviced Porches.

"We were thinking of taking a trip, Mom," Tim said. "Diana and I."

"Oh," said Kathleen. "That's nice. Where to?"

"To the mountains. In New Hampshire. We want to go to Florida and visit Diana's folks, too, but we can save that for the winter."

"You'll be in school in the winter."

"Or working," Tim said.

"In which case, it will be even harder to get the time off," Kathleen pointed out.

"You get vacations from jobs," Tim said.

"Not part time ones," Kathleen said. "And not when you first started.

"I'm thinking about a full time one, Mom," Tim said. Diana felt alarmed. She knew all of Tim's arguments. She just didn't know where this conversation was going to go.

"Instead of school?"

"Yes. To see what I want to go into first."

"You can always do general college."

"I know, but it's not the real world."

Kathleen smiled. "No, but then the real world often wants college degrees."

"I know, but Mom, I don't want to just get a degree and then wonder what to do. I want to know for sure. Like Quinn."

"It was easier for Quinn," Kathleen admitted. "She knew she wanted to be a nurse when she was still in high school."

"I'm not like that," Tim said, encouraged. "If I had to decide now, I'd say I want to fix cars and play guitar."

"Maybe that is your calling," Kathleen said. "But are you sure?"

"Not entirely, but why spend money on college when it might not turn out to be necessary? And if I work some years, I can save up and pay for it myself."

"We've always saved for your college and we're prepared for it," Kathleen said. "Besides, living expenses are probably more than you are bargaining for. You'll need a car to get to work."

"I could live near work, or take the bus. Or maybe get a motorcycle," Tim said.

"A motorcycle," Kathleen sounded nervous. Tim thought maybe he hadn't mentioned that. But then again, they weren't nervous about Quinn racing stock cars. The least they could do would be to tolerate his motorcycle.

"You can get old cars, cheap, and Tim can fix them," Diana said. Kathleen looked at her. "In Florida," Diana added. "I've seen it often. When they break down, you know, guys, they can fix them," she added, nervously.

Kathleen looked at Tim.

"They must not last as long around here, with the weather," Tim observed. "But we still have old clunkers."

"Speaking of the weather, that's the problem with a motorcycle," Kathleen said.

"I can get a warm jacket," Tim said. "Motorcycles are probably safer in snow than cars."

"That I don't see," Kathleen says. "It looks to me like they'd be worse. Skidding on one of those things would end up worse."

Tim could see that this might be true. "Well, we're way off topic," he said. "The bus is fine. Or an old car. I can handle an old car in the snow. I know everything isn't easy, Mom. Isn't that what life is about? Challenge? All that?"

"Sure," Kathleen said. "Though college is a challenge, too. Keep that in mind." 


End file.
